The Reachman: Denilwen's Vision
by Bootstrap Bill
Summary: If the indifference of good permits the triumph of evil, then why do the Divines remain idle in the face of a coming apocalypse? A young priestess foresees Destruction's approach and the Temple of Rihad must sacrifice their own for the sake of all.
1. Chapter 1

**The Reachman: Denilwen's Vision is the fourth book in my series and the first of three books detailing the Oblivion Crisis. Please read The Reachman: Prologue, Dayan's Riders and The Temple first or you won't understand the story! **

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**1**

**18 First Seed 4E46, West Weald Inn, Skingrad, Cyrodiil**

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The young woman chose to ignore the comments of the eager young Wood Elf looking over her shoulder. She nervously scanned the room peering deep into the eyes of her opponents, anticipating their decisions, predicting their next moves. Her leg twitched with excitement. She placed a hand down on her thigh to stop the shaking.

"Don't do anything _crazy_ now. You have a lot to lose."

"We'll see about that."

A loud _thud _echoed in the tavern as the Nord's large fist slammed down upon the table.

"Call 'em out."

"Three twos."

"Five twos."

"Two fours."

"Five fives."

An exchange of confident glances.

"Seven sixes."

"Two eights."

The Nord peered at the die hidden under his cup. The young woman watched for any changes in his body language, looking intently for his _tell_.

"_Nine sevens_." The Nord cracked his knuckles.

_Gotcha. _

"Gunnar _you are a liar!_" She challenged.

"You sure about that Balan?"

"Show me what you've got _big boy_."

Gunnar and his two companions lifted their cups, exposing their die. Each competitor quickly calculated the numbers hoping they would be first to prove the young Redguard wrong.

"Five sevens, hot damn!"

Balan threw up her hands and greedily hoarded the assortment of coins and jewels piled in the center of the table. The three remaining competitors counted and recounted the die hoping to find an anomaly in their calculations. After just a few moments, Gunnar's two friends pushed away from the table and stormed angrily outside.

"Come on Balan, you have to give me a chance to win back that money."

"_Horse shit I do!_ I won it fair and square."

"Don't be like that. I'll put in double what I did last time. You know I'm good for it."

"Gunnar it'll take you six months to earn back what you just lost in a single evening. You're no good to me anymore."

"_I can cover him_."

An elderly Dunmer woman, her face hidden beneath a dark cowl strutted confidently over to the two bickering gamblers. Balan reached for her blade only to realize she had left it with the bouncer upon entering the tavern. She eyed the rack of weapons by the door looking for the opportunity to reclaim her sword.

"Well all right! You hear that Balan? This _pretty young thing _is gonna help me win my money back! And she'll win herself a good portion of my winnings _when I do_." Gunnar joked.

"I told you I'm done." Balan declined moving backwards to the weapons rack.

Sasha balled her hands into a fist, discharging electricity that thundered like an approaching rainstorm resounding off the thick oak walls of the tavern. Balan stopped moving.

"Sit down, both of you."

Gunnar nervously produced a smile. Balan slowly pulled out a chair and eased herself down. Sasha joined them. Without a word Sasha, Gunnar and Balan herded six die into their cups, shook, then smacked them down onto the table. The elderly Dunmer never broke her gaze on the Redguard.

"Not to be impolite ma'am, but you said you were covering me for this round, right?"

"We're not playing for money Gunnar." Sasha answered. "The stakes are _much higher_."

Balan shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"As you are aware, the object of this game is to goad your opponent into lying about their hand by increasingly raising the stakes. However there is no point in me playing this game with your friend here because I _already know_ she is a liar."

"I didn't –"

Sasha raised a hand and Balan immediately stopped talking. Her eyes swelled with tears.

"Maybe I should go." Gunnar offered. "I have no quarrel with you."

"Nor I you, but the die has been cast. We must finish the game. If I lose and either of you catch me in a lie, I let Balan walk away. If I win and prove either of you a liar, well…let's just see where that goes. I call two twos." She challenged without looking beneath her cup.

"Aren't you gonna –"

"_Two twos._" She repeated.

"Three twos." Gunnar calmly spoke.

"They cornered me in the Waterfront, _the Enforcers_, I had no choice."

"Place your bet Balan."

"Come on Sasha, you know how it goes. He would've killed me! We all do what we must to survive, don't punish me for that."

"Place your bet." She repeated.

Balan peered underneath her cup and took little time calculating the numbers.

"Three threes."

Sasha stood, flipping the heavy wooden table in the process spilling drinks and die onto the floor with a loud _crash_. Gunnar ducked behind a nearby table for safety and as Balan turned towards the weapons rack behind her, the Dunmer unleashed a destructive lightning attack shot forth from her palms. The bolt of energy carried the Redguard off her feet and sent her flying through the air. Balan's head impacted with the tavern's front doors, penetrating clear through to the outside. Sasha quietly knelt down and counted the die spread across the floor, then unfastened a pouch of gold from off the Redguard's lifeless dangling body and tossed it to the frightened Nord.

"She was lying Gunnar, _you win._"

* * *

**Two days later, The Flowing Bowl, Independent Republic of Anvil, Cyrodiil**

_The Reachman, long away from home, did not remember the lessons passed to him by his fathers and his father's fathers. He could not remember the words of his teachers spoken to him on the mysterious nature of fate. Unseen to past and present, future shrouded behind the veil of time, the paths of all men are cloaked in obscurity, revealed only through faith and self realization. _

"I thought you said that _The Reachman_ was nonsense?" Sasha pulled up a chair beside the young author seated at a table in the far corner of the dockside tavern.

"I still think it is, but I've met with nearly every person in town that was alive during the Crisis and no one can recall seeing or knowing Roe. We might have hit a dead end Sasha. Did Balan say if Ancus was still alive?"

"She never got the chance."

"I see. Does that mean we are safe?"

"For the time being." She estimated. "I don't want to stay here long though. Balderic has most likely figured out his _Dunmer assassins _failed and will send more after us, that _is if we haven't already been discovered_."

A questionable look from several patrons at the tavern counter made Sasha slowly turn facing the opposite side of the bar.

"Balderic can't send his Enforcers into the sovereign territory of Anvil however their influence reaches all across the _Old Empire_. Morag Tong assassins won't be the last opposition we face young author." Sasha warned.

"We need to find out where Roe went and get on his trail, _sooner than later_."

Sean took a sip from his tankard of mead and set it gently down on the table.

"Okay I've been in worst predicaments than this. Let's start at the beginning. After you left Roe in the City, where do you think he might've gone?"

Sasha did not answer right away. She appeared upset.

"He wasn't ready to be on his own. _For goodness sakes he was so young._ I shouldn't have left him."

"He was a grown man, Sasha."

"Roe was _my responsibility. _He wasn't just a teammate, he…I…"

"You don't have to say it." Sean interrupted. "Besides I think Roe was perfectly capable of taking care of himself thanks to you. If he wasn't, than I wouldn't have this _book?_"

Sasha smiled at the young author and took a long gulp of her ale.

"You're right Sean."

"Really? Thank you Sasha."

"If I was wrong, that book wouldn't exist. That very extensive, in depth biography _wouldn't exist._" She hinted.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that! The book might tell us where he went."

Sean eagerly delved into the pages of text, scanning for a clue about the mysterious _Reachman's _whereabouts. The elderly Dunmer slowly sipped her drink watching the young author with amusement.

"Here, read this!"

_It is said that the ancient city was among the first built by the Yokus – the inhabitants of Yokuda who traversed the Abecean Sea to settle in what is now Hammerfell. The Temple of Satakal, dedicated to the greatest of the Redguard deities, can be seen from miles away, its gold domes reflecting the sunlight, white stone glimmering in the shadow of Masser and Secunda as bright as any star. Here it is said the Reachman traveled, seeking knowledge of Yokuda's mightiest warriors, wielders of unmatched and unimaginable power. _

"Do you know where this place is?"

Sasha nodded and pushed back from the table. A small congregation of seedy looking gentlemen was huddled together in a corner of the room. One of the men looked up and over at Sasha and Sean. His mates scolded him for making such an obvious gesture of interest.

"I'm going to stay behind and make sure none of Duncan's _Enforcer goons _follow us. Get yourself a ship or a fast horse and I'll meet you in Rihad in four days."


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"I think you are in the wrong part of town my friend."

Sean turned his gaze to a middle-aged Redguard descending from a room built high above the main floor connected by a winding staircase.

"Isn't this a library? I see many books." Sean queried, hoping he had not stumbled into someone's home.

"This is a library, but I do not see many foreigners interested in our books. Perhaps you would prefer the Outer Plaza. You'll find the taverns and most of the martial arts schools there."

"You were not born of Hammerfell were you?"

The Redguard was dressed in tight fitting white robes with a red sash trimmed in gold tied loosely around his waist and a high collar that extended up to his jaw line. The man's dark black hair was tied in a ponytail that dropped halfway down his back.

"What makes you say that?" The Redguard asked.

"You're accent is that of a town I once passed through in my travels - _Shalgora_."

"Impressive. I was raised in Sentinel and have lived in Hammerfell all my life. My parents were born of Shalgora and it would seem I retain the traits of their land."

"My name is Sean Finn." He introduced.

"It is pleasure to meet a scholar of such _notoriety_. I am Raghav. Just recently did we sell our last copy of your book on the Julianos War. What a treasure it would've been to have you sign it. Tell me, what brings you to Rihad?"

"I am looking for information on a specific book or a chance to meet with the author."

"There are many authors in the city Mister Finn. Do you have this fellow's name?"

"He was not listed."

Raghav turned and entered deeper into the library among the tightly packed rows of bookshelves.

"If you give me the title of the book perhaps I will know the author who wrote it." He called back.

"Unfortunately I believe it is one of a kind. It is called _The Reachman_."

Sean could not see Raghav's face but he knew that mentioning the title of the book had caught the Redguard by surprise. The librarian waited several moments before turning around to face his guest.

"You are right Mister Finn. That book is one of a kind."

"_You know of it?_"

"I do."

Sean nearly jumped out of his shoes.

"Where is the author now?"

"Dead? Living a peaceful life in a far away land? This I do not know – but I can take you to someone who does. Will you follow me for a while? I will just collect my overcoat and we'll be on our way."

The author felt strangely comfortable with his Redguard escort. Hammerfell was one of the few provinces to resist the persecution of Balderic and his Enforcers. The Redguard homeland also gave safe haven for many scholars and academics. Sean was overjoyed to speak with Raghav about anything and everything, having been so long without a scholarly colleague. Sean spoke of his time spent in the ancient libraries of Summerset Isle, usually forbidden to humans, and Raghav recounted tales of Redguard history and lore. He was almost disappointed when Raghav asked the author to be silent as the two entered the Temple District.

Sean had traveled more than the average citizen, but never before had seen such an awe-inspiring structure like the Temple of Satakal. He did not know much about the city or its history, other than the one occasion it arose during his studies of the Adamantine Rebellion. While the Army of Julianos campaigned successfully across western Tamriel seizing the city-states of High Rock and Hammerfell, the city of Rihad was bypassed for still unexplained reasons. Now standing before the Great Temple of Satakal, Sean truly was thankful that Rihad avoided the fate so many other cities had not.

From the Temple's entrance, a long line of parishioners filed out into the cobblestone Plaza. It was nighttime but no bells rung signaling the end of Temple services as was custom in chapels throughout Cyrodiil. Most of the parishioners were elderly Redguards. All of them bowed as Raghav passed. The librarian led his guest across the Plaza into the Great Temple. Raghav motioned for Sean to remove his shoes and to place them by the entranceway. Sean obeyed and followed his escort. He was lead into a small room at the end of a long side hallway.

"Wait here Mister Finn while I get the Father for you."

Several minutes passed and Sean entertained himself by politely rifling through the various odds and ends that decorated the room. A small collection of books, fine silverware, decorated rugs and a tapestry of what appeared to be some sort of wedding ceremony. In the center of the room was a knee high table surrounded by kneeling rugs on all four sides. This was customary furniture for Redguards who kept to the traditions of old.

A Dunmer priest covered in flowing white robes appeared in the doorway, taking the time to close it behind him. He was overcome with a feeling of _déjà vu_, as if he had seen him countless times before but could not recollect where. The Dunmer priest had ornate _Yokudan _characters stitched into each shoulder. The former Legionnaire was intrigued by these markings which he would've identified as military rank had they not belonged to a priest. His hair was long and silvery, his skin green and brown unlike Sasha's pale blue.

"_Tashar'haba _Mister Finn." The priest greeted in a language Sean recognized to be _Yoku_.

"_Dobor-dan_." Sean replied in Dunmeris.

The priest politely asked Sean to join him at the kneeling table. The Dunmer reached for a nearby tea kettle and poured himself some tea in a small porcelain cup.

"Would you like some?" The priest offered as was obligation in traditional Redguard homes.

"Yes please."

The Dunmer poured the author some steaming hot tea before taking a kneeling position at the knee high table.

"Raghav tells me you were looking for some information on a book."

"Yes Father. Raghav says that you know who the author is?"

Sean retrieved his copy of _The Reachman _and handed it to the priest. The Dunmer spent several moments thumbing through the pages, examining it in the same manner Sean had with nearly the same facial expressions.

"Yes I do believe I can track down the author for you, but unfortunately it will take some time. He left many years ago and is no longer apart of this Temple. I have not seen him in a long time."

"Who is the author?"

"He is no longer apart of this Temple." The priest repeated with a hint of aggravation in his voice.

"Does the author have a name?"

"Yes."

An awkward silence.

"Will you tell me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"The author does not want to be disturbed, especially by strangers."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he doesn't want to be disturbed by his friends either."

This time Sean picked up on the fact that the author of _The Reachman _had somehow wronged this Dunmer priest. The circumstances surrounding that event must've been less than amiable.

"The author was a priest as well?"

"Indeed. He served the Temple just as I do now."

"It's unusual to see a Dunmer professing the word of Redguard deities. How did you come to this place?" Sean asked, hoping that a change in his questioning would put the Dunmer at ease.

"I came here several decades ago from Morrowind. I have since remained."

"I was fortunate to visit Morrowind in my travels. It was quite lovely, even with all that was going on back then." Sean fibbed just a little.

"You and I have very different ideas of what one might call 'lovely'."

_This is going to be more difficult than I thought._

"Vivec City was especially accommodating to my needs. I was able to access several House libraries with little aggravation."

"Years before our _glorious Emperor _brought his war to our holiest city, I served as a member of Lord Vivec's _Ordinators, _his most trusted and elite guards." The Dunmer's willingness to share his past history was a good sign of progress. "I was quartermaster in charge of maintaining weapons, armour and texts sacred to our order. I can appreciate the importance of keeping accurate historical records. The Temple boasts an impressive collection of our own. I can make arrangements for you to view our library tomorrow if you are interested?"

"I would like that very much." Sean was satisfied and decided to end his conversation on a positive note.

"Thank you again Father…"

"Zidvyda. My name is Father Zidvyda."


	3. Chapter 3 Part 1

**3**

**The Temple of Satakal, 47 years earlier**

Master Zair was woken from his sleep by Master Surro who tugged gently at his robes.

"We have a situation. The priests need to see all of us right away." Master Surro explained.

If the priests of the Temple were asking for the presence of all the Master Ansei, something had either gone very wrong or it was about to. Zair had just laid down for a quick rest before the first of the newly graduated Ansei returned from their Walk About. The Walk About was reminiscent of the sojourns made by _Frandar Hunding _and his Ansei who traveled the countryside performing acts of kindness and defeating evil. Either alone or in small groups, Ansei wandered Tamriel going wherever they chose, to perform good deeds and refine their skills in _Shehai Shen She Ru. _The experience necessary to form a _spirit sword_ was acquired during these retreats. At the end of a Walk About, which lasted about a month, the Ansei returned to the Halls for a great feast to share their adventures with their brother and sisters.

Master Zair entered the Meditation Room, Master Surro following close behind. Seated in a circle on the floor was the _Hall Council_, a collection of the highest ranking Ansei in Rihad. The Council met often to discuss matters ranging from recruiting and training to changes in doctrine and philosophy. The Hall Council was above all else, responsible for upholding the traditions of the Way and safeguarding it from corruption. Only five _Halls of the Virtues of War_ remained in Tamriel and Rihad was most prominent. The Temple of Satakal was the largest training hall for new initiates, housed the Ansei's Archives and was home to the most experienced Sword Singers known to be alive. For these reasons the Hall Council of Rihad was _the only _Ansei Council qualified to critique the teachings of Grandmaster Hunding. Upholding the millennia-old traditions of the _Yokudan_ _Sword-Singers_ was becoming increasingly difficult as Tamriel changed around them.

As Hall Master, Zair was careful never to involve his Ansei as a major faction in Imperial and inter-provincial politics. The Ansei adopted a strategy of waiting, watching, and debating and only intervened after unanimous agreement from the entire Council. Since Zair came to the Rihad Halls the Council had met eleven times to discuss sending Ansei to deal with situations _deemed a threat to the balance of Nirn. _For the sake of millions of innocent lives, Zair obeyed orders and had played his part as pawn to an Empire.


	4. Zair's Tale: Chapter 1

**Zair's Tale: Betony Isles is a spinoff which explores Zair's past as a young Ansei. I wrote this for fun and to date it is one of my favorite pieces. Should you chose to skip this short story, it will not effect your understanding of the main storyline. Proceed to Chapter 3 Part 2 to continue with Denilwen's Vision. **

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**09 Sun's Dawn 3E403, Cryngaine Field, Isle of Betony**

"Master Qarim, may I ask you a question?"

"I told you not to call me _Master _outside of the Temple."

"Yes…but you also said not to mention the _Temple _either."

"Hmm, good point. Ask away."

The two Redguards rode slowly across the field. Early morning dew covered the grass with a top layer of water so dense that the field appeared to be white in colour. Their destination was the encampment of the army of Daggerfall located somewhere among the thick vegetation of the Ravennian Forest. Mounted on their horses, they could make out the tops of the thousand year-old trees poking just over the crest of a small hill.

Of all the provinces and kingdoms of Cyrodiil, Zair enjoyed the Iliac Bay city-states the most. Having spent most of his childhood in the city of Elinhir far away from any body of water, the deep blue waters of the Abecean Sea captivated him. He enjoyed traveling to the port cities of Sentinel, Porthago and Stros M'Kai where he could watch the ships coming and going. It was from a small fishing village in the province of _Kairou_ that Zair first caught glimpse of the Isle of Betony appearing as a green speck on the horizon. Betony was situated at the mouth of the Bay, closest to the city-state of Daggerfall. This proximity to the Breton kingdom must have not been a concern for the hundred of pirates and maritime marauders that called the island their home. It certainly wasn't an issue for the Kingdom of Sentinel.

He could understand the desire for control of the island. Its position made it a strategic point for military and financial dominance of Iliac Bay. Zair, who was not an uneducated man, had come to the conclusion that the now two-year long War of Betony was fueled not just by a desire for maritime superiority, but by a deep seeded animosity between the Breton and Redguard races.

As an Ansei, Zair was taught that the desires of the _outside world_ were poisonous. Throughout all levels of society there was a conditioned behaviour to prove one's self as the best merchant, mage or warrior. Nations wasted thousands in gold coins building peace-time armies to intimidate their enemies. Zair saw this latest conflict as nothing more than two lions fighting over a piece meat. What disturbed him most was that hundreds if not thousands of young men and women soldiers had died just to satisfy the greed of kings.

In Daggerfall, it was Sentinel King Camaron's barbaric thirst for power which had brought his troops to invade the High Rock territory of the Isle of Betony. In Sentinel, the historically Redguard-dominated Isle of Betony was under siege from the covetous eyes of King Lysandus of Daggerfall. Which story was the truth? Zair did not know, nor did it matter. He was an Ansei and thus above politics. As a son of Hammerfell however, the Redguard secretly despised King Lysandus and the Breton race which wrongly believed themselves "superior" to Redguards.

Of course this was just his opinion and held no bearing on their current mission.

"Do you ever have doubts?" Zair asked Master Qarim.

"I'm human, of course I do."

"Do you have doubts about what we are doing now?"

"Are you asking if I doubt the rule of the Council?"

"The _Imperial _Council sent us?" Zair was confused.

"No, _our _Council."

"_We have a Council?_"

"They are the Master Ansei of our Temple. In times of great conflict, we make sure that the transgression of evil does not go unnoticed, _or unpunished. _If things get out of hand we send Ansei to resolve the situation."

"And they've sent _us?_"

"No. They sent _you. _They asked _me_ to come and watch."

"Me? Why?"

"Because you are unique Zair. You are a gifted fighterand your knowledge on the philosophies of our art is advanced far beyond that of your peers. The Council thought it important that whoever we sent to Betony understood the ramifications of their actions."

"Master, I'm not exactly sure what it is we're doing here but I don't agree with it. _King Lysandus_ is a dark man and I regret having to serve him."

Zair wasn't sure if sharing his personal feeling with a Master Ansei was appropriate, especially while on a mission.

"Regret is a dangerous feeling Zair. It is an unnecessary burden that will weigh heavily on your soul. Tell me, have you been able to form a s_hehai _yet?" Master Qarim asked.

"Several times but I have never used it out of anger."

"And you never will."

"I don't understand Master."

"Do you know what makes forming a shehaipossible?"

Zair spent weeks meditating for an answer to this question. Even though he had been able to form his spirit sword,Zair could not think of a way to explain it.

"_Love_." Master Qarim smiled. "A love that derives from the presence of _complete_ harmony within oneself. With anger and regret in your heart you will not possess such love and in turn will not have the means to form your shehai."

"What if I am unable to achieve this _harmony_ in battle?" Zair asked.

"That's why we carry _real weapons_." Qarim laughed.

"Do not be disappointed. It will take some time before you have the will to form and maintain a shehaiamidst all the hustle and bustle of a fight. No one can tell you how to achieve your inner harmony, to _sing your song_ as the older generations poetically refer to it, though there _is_ a sort of general guideline."

"What is it?"

"It's quite simple really, at least in theory. Imagine the environment of a fight. Noise, confusion, cries of pain and death, the inner turmoil of hundreds of men and mer. Look for the desire _within_ to let loose your inner harmony upon your surroundings. A shehaiis the means to subjugate the _external_ world to the metaphysical manifestation of your _inner_ harmony." Qarim explained. _"_Or the way I explain it_, your spirit sword will help shut everyone up so you can get some peace and quiet."_ He added with a chuckle.

Much to his surprise, Zair understood his Master's explanation quite well.

"So how am I expected to form my shehai and let loose my harmony when I don't even have it yet? I am feeling doubt."

Master Qarim nodded, prepared with an answer as if he were teaching a lesson back in the Halls.

"With constant training and meditation, an experienced Ansei will be able to store away his or her feeling of harmony. Imagine it almost like putting the ability to form a shehai into a wooden chest. You carry that chest with you whether you are happy or sad, if you feel confident or timid. With this stored emotion, one is able to access the ability to form a shehai at any time. Overcoming feelings of doubt, guilt and regret will help you achieve your inner harmony and _that _is only accomplished once an Ansei has understood and accepted the inevitable truth of responsibility versus desire."

"What is that?" Zair was truly enjoying the lesson he was receiving from his Master.

"It is doing what you must over doing what you want, even if the former conflicts with the latter. As Ansei, we possess the means to end the suffering of the masses. To misuse that power by choosing to abstain from conflict is just as irresponsible as committing the act of evil itself. You may not want to serve King Lysandus, but the Council has decided that helping him is for the betterment of Tamriel."

"I trust our Council's judgment." Zair added.

"So do I."


	5. Zair's Tale: Chapter 2 Part 1

**2**

"_Riders approaching! They're not ours!_" Zair could hear a Breton voice call out.

Under the assumption that the trees of the Ravennian were full of Breton scouts, Zair and Qarim had been riding for several hundred yards with their hands raised up above their heads. Two Breton soldiers in chainmail armour grabbed hold of their horses' reins and ordered them to dismount. Several more scouts emerged from the underbrush of the surrounding area.

"Search them for weapons."

Two soldiers frisked Qarim and Zair from top to bottom, removing their weapons.

"State your business." One of the soldiers demanded.

"We have been sent by the Emperor to aid you." Qarim answered.

"You are spies from Sentinel." The soldier accused.

"Check my left pocket and you will find our papers are in order."

A soldier reached into the Master Ansei's robe and retrieved an envelope sealed with the Imperial seal. Unbeknownst to Zair, the Emperor had no knowledge of the Temple and had never requested their presence. Through the Ansei's Imperial counterpart, _Grandmaster Bors_ of the Blades had provided Hall Master Klaus with a forged letter from the Emperor. The Ansei Council wasn't the only non-governmental faction that sought to end the war in Betony.

Another Breton soldier, this one mounted on a horse, rode briskly over to investigate what his soldiers were doing.

"What is this? Messengers from _Camaron_?"

"No Captain, these men claim to be sent by the Emperor to help us in our fight. They have what looks to be an authentic letter with the Imperial seal." The soldier handed the Captain the letter.

The Breton spent several minutes reading it over.

"Lord Bridwell should be able to confirm the authenticity of their letter. Bind their hands and escort them back to the main camp. If they try to escape or the letter is a fake, _kill them_."

With Master Qarim at his side, Zair felt no fear as this order was given. The two Ansei's hands were tied and soon they were walking towards the encampment of the army of Daggerfall.

* * *

"It's real. Now explain who you are and why the Emperor in all of his infinite wisdom, has sent me an army of two priests." Lord Bridwell, general of the Daggerfall army, ordered. "Quickly, my lord King Lysandus will be arriving shortly."

Zair cringed upon hearing the name of the King of Daggerfall. How easy it would have been for Zair to kill the evil King and end the war.

"My lord, the Emperor has sent us to oversee combat operations and to intervene if necessary."

"Oversee? You wish to assume commandof_ my _army?"

Bridwell stood at least two feet taller than Master Qarim but was not a Nord as his unusual height may have suggested. For royalty, Lord Birdwell was extremely fit. Veins protruded from his biceps and forearms as he raised his voice at the short Redguard. He wore a sleeveless ebony cuirass emblazoned with the seal of Daggerfall on the breast and matching ebony greaves and boots. Bridwell may have been a Lord by title but he was a warrior by trade.

"No sir," Master Qarim replied humbly. "I implore you to allow my colleague and I to prove our loyalty to the Empire during your upcoming attack."

His Master's rhetoric infuriated Zair making it extremely difficult for him to practice his lesson on inner harmony.

"What do you propose?" Lord Bridwell was intrigued.

"At the onset of battle my colleague and I will assume a position in front of your army. Do not attack until we have conducted our business."

"What is it you intend to do?"

"_Our business_." Qarim repeated.

Lord Bridwell brewed over Qarim's proposal for several minutes. Before rendering a decision, he was interrupted by a Breton Captain bursting into his tent.

"_King Lysandus has arrived! _He's ordered the army to move out at once."

Bridwell looked at Zair and Qarim, mulling over his decision.

"Captain, carry out our King's order. Escort these two men to the front of our formation."


	6. Zair's Tale: Chapter 2 Part 2

Qarim and Zair were now back on the dew covered fields of Cryngaine, the army of Daggerfall at their back, the army of Sentinel to their front. From across the field the young Ansei could barely make out the yellow tunics of the Sentinel soldiers. It was late morning and the army of Daggerfall was facing east. The blinding light of the sun prevented the Breton's from being able to detect the movements of the Redguard army. The two forces had formed their battle lines just out of the range of arrow-fire, about 200 yards apart. For several minutes, the two foes stared each other down, taunting, daring their enemy to make the first move.

Zair had been in several engagements before, fighting off attackers numbering in the twenties. As the sun retreated behind the clouds and the thousands of soldiers from the Kingdom of Sentinel came into view, he felt a new kind of fear. He wanted to piss himself.

"So this may have been a question I should've asked earlier, _but what exactly are we going to do_?" Zair asked his Master.

"I told you, I'm just here to watch." Qarim laughed. "_Your _objective is to end this war with as few casualties as you can."

"How do I do that. I told you I've only been able to make a shehaionce or twice."

Master Qarim walked over and stood in front of Zair. Both were dressed in their white Temple robes, equipped with leather harnesses holding their assortment of daggers and swords.

"Close your eyes." Master Qarim said gently. "Your objective is to end this war with as few casualties as you can." He repeated. "_End this war with as few casualties as you can_." Master Qarim began repeating this mantra over and over until Zair repeated it too.

He felt his heart rate slow, his muscles relax and his mind clear out all negative thoughts. When he opened his eyes, Master Qarim was gone.

Zair spun around trying to locate his Master but could see only the hulking figure of Lord Bridwell riding towards him.

_Oh my gods he left me out here alone! _

"Where's your friend?" Bridwell asked.

"I don't know." Zair answered.

"Well then _what are you waiting for? _Do what you came here to do!"

Lord Bridwell quickly turned his horse and rode back to the Daggerfall lines. From his position about fifty feet away, Zair could see King Lysandus mounted on his white horse. Lord Bridwell reported to the King who seemed annoyed by Zair's presence.

Alone against an entire army, Zair took a seat on the ground and began preparing to form his spirit sword. From both the Redguard and Breton armies Zair could hear laughter erupting from the soldiers. _What is he doing? Is he shitting himself? _The jeers and insults made it difficult to concentrate. Several minutes passed and he grew increasingly worried that he would not be able to figure out what to do. Zair abandoned his efforts and opened his eyes. The attack had already begun.

* * *

"_Incoming!_" A Breton called out as hundreds of arrows fell from the sky.

Zair quickly came to a low crouch and rushed forward towards the Sentinel lines, out of the target area of the incoming arrows. Behind him he could hear the screams of the dying and wounded. Arrows impacted with flesh and penetrated through armour. Zair could see several lines of Sentinel archers reloading their arrows. With not much time to spare, he dashed for the tree line located several hundred yards to his right.

"Where are _you_ going?" Master Qarim asked calmly.

"Master! _Where'd you go?_" Zair was surprised and extremely relieved.

"I had to go pee. I also got one of these." Master Qarim was holding a large shield in his hands. "I think we might need it." The Redguard smiled.

"_Incoming_!"

Another volley of arrows was loosed from the Sentinel archers. Master Qarim and Zair hid behind the shield as the arrows hacked away at the Bretons. The arrow fire was discriminate, accurately aimed at the Daggerfall soldiers. The Sentinel archers must've figured Zair for a harmless priest as only a few stray arrows landed near the two Ansei huddled behind their shield.

Zair could hear King Lysandus behind him relaying the order for his own archers to begin returning fire. The time in between volleys was decreasing. A constant stream of arrows was unleashed upon the Bretons as they struggled to do the same to their opponents. Master Qarim was confident they were out of the line of fire.

"_Ready?"_

Zair nodded.

"Then you might want to step back."

While the exchange of arrow fire raged on, Master Qarim stood calmly amidst the heat of battle. Zair could now see that the army of Sentinel was mobilizing, moving their infantry and cavalry forward to charge the Breton lines. If Master Qarim and Zair did not move soon, they would either be killed by the approaching Redguards or the Bretons.

The Master Ansei stretched his hands outward and then quickly clasped them together as if he were praying. A faint glow was emitted from Qarim's hands. At first Zair thought it was sunlight reflecting off of the wet grass. Then the light turned pink, purple, and bright white. The smoke danced around his figure and caressed the Master Ansei as if he were steaming.

From the Breton lines, Lord Bridwell ordered his frontline troops to move forward. Zair turned to see a wall of spearmen marching at a slow pace towards him. The Redguards were about one hundred yards away. The pace of their advance quickened to a light jog.

Master Qarim moved his hands, positioning them as if he were holding a two-handed blade. His grip was loose and the smoke weaved through his fingers. Much to Zair's amazement, the smoke appeared to _solidify, _taking the shape of a giant war hammer! Qarim's mastery of forming a spirit sword was a common story told among the younger Ansei of the Halls but Zair had never heard of _anyone _forming a spirit-_hammer! _Master Qarim was covered in the smoke which emanated from his body like a fire. The shape of a hammer was now clearly visible in the hands of his Master and it was growing larger.

He could _feel _the pounding of the earth as thousands of Bretons charged forward just thirty feet away from him. The Redguard army let out a fierce battle cry. The cavalry galloped forward with great speed. Zair could see the faces of the Redguard warriors, their eyes flared with anger. They raised their weapons to attack.

Zair drew his katana and rushed forward to protect his Master from being crushed between the two armies when, in one fluid movement, Master Qarim raised the spirit-hammer above his head and slammed it down onto the grassy field. Both armies were knocked to their backs by the concussion of the blast. Horses and bodies flew threw the air, metal crunched, wood snapped and broke, and soldiers on both sides were hurled into one another. Master Qarim using his spirit-hammer, had struck the grassy fields of Cryngaine so hard that the dew on the grass hung in the air like a foggy mist. The fog was so thick that neither army was able to see one another. What Master Qarim had done was well beyond the realm of what Zair thought possible of any mortal man.


	7. Zair's Tale: Chapter 2 Part 3

The only illumination was from the purple and blue smoke that burned around Master Qarim. As the light surrounding his Master faded, Zair found himself alone, incapable of getting his bearings in the fog. There were cries of pain from both animal and man as officers barked orders to reform the lines. Zair stumbled and tried to make his escape from the battlefield. The young Redguard was growing frightened, unable to find his Master. Confusion. Who was behind him? Who was in front of him? After several moments, Zair could hear the sounds of combat, metal striking metal, spear-point tearing flesh.

The mist began to settle and several unidentified figures charged towards him. Zair readied his katana and attacked the enemy. He cut at their limbs, slicing through their chainmail armour with his blade. A Redguard attacked him with a spear thrust which he easily avoided. Zair countered, nearly cutting the man's forearm in two. Now a Breton with a mace made an attempt narrowly missing the young Ansei's head. Zair grabbed the man from behind and shoved his katana through the Breton's back until it protruded through his tunic. Unable to remove his blade, Zair used the dying Breton as a shield protecting himself from another Daggerfall soldier. This soldier wielded a war hammer and with one swing knocked Zair and his human shield to the ground. Before the Breton was able to crush his head in, Zair found a sword lying nearby and with it cut at the man's knees. The Breton collapsed to the ground and Zair shoved the blade into his chest.

Several minutes of close combat passed, Zair having to fight both Breton and Redguard. He had lost his katana but his extensive training had taught him how to use spears, shortswords and war axes. The mist was nearly dissolved and the trees of the Ravennian forest came into view. All around him the armies of Daggerfall and Sentinel were struggling to regain organization among their ranks.

"_Fall back! Regroup! Fall back to the trees!" _Zair could hear a Breton voice call out.

"_Regroup!_" The Redguard forces echoed.

Zair was surrounded by Bretons and Redguards trying to decide whether to retreat or continue their attack. Another Breton lunged at him with a spear. Zair dodged the attack and used his war-axe to snap the spear's shaft into two pieces, then buried the axe deep in the man's skull. A nearby platoon of retreating Bretons witnessed this act of aggression.

_"Kill that traitor!_" One of the Daggerfall soldiers called out.

Before Zair could protest their action, twenty three men were charging forward, intent on killing him. Zair, now weaponless, scanned the area for any undamaged weapons he could find. _Inner harmony. I want inner harmony to be outer harmony. I want these guys to go away! _He remembered the lesson from Master Qarim just hours before. The Breton aggressors encircled him. Zair closed his eyes and imagined himself holding his shehai.

The Ansei's entire body tingled like being tickled all over. A trail of pink and blue smoke penetrated out from his pores. It felt like someone had cut his skin off and his insides were exposed to the world. He repeated the movements of his Master, first clasping his hands together in prayer, then extending his hands outward. He could feel his body convulse, his legs twitched, his toes curled, and his fingers wiggled. The aura of colourful smoke swirled and wrapped him in a blanket of energy. His _body_ was the _sheath_ and his _harmony_ was the _sword_. From the sheath, Zair drew his blade, a cloud of purple and black smoke swirled through his fingers and solidified in his palms.

The Ansei burned like a torch emitting a smokeless flame. He did not know how much time passed but the platoon of Breton soldiers had yet to attack. The shehaiwas weightless, easily slicing through the air. Zair cleaved three of the Breton soldiers in half. Some of the soldiers were motionless, either mesmerized or petrified. They too were sliced by Zair's shehai. A few more experienced soldiers charged forward with their shields in front of their faces. Zair's shehai effortlessly cut through metal, wood, flesh and bone, dispatching the remaining members of the platoon in seconds.

As the mist covering Cryngaine field dissipated completely, Zair could see that the armies of Sentinel and Daggerfall had separated and retreated to their original positions. Alone, surrounded by the bodies of dead Bretons and Redguards, Zair allowed his shehai to dissolve. He imagined he was packing his spirit swordinto a wooden chest and storing it away. His white-robes were covered in blood. Thankfully none of it was his.

From the nearby trees of the Ravennian Forest, Master Qarim emerged and bowed to the Ansei warrior.


	8. Zair's Tale: Chapter 3 Part 1

**3**

"Lord Bridwell! Lord Bridwell!" A messenger came running from the rear of Daggerfall's battle formation.

"Have you found the King?"

"Yes milord!"

"Bring him to the front. We need to make preparations for the next attack!"

"I can't sire, _King Lysandus is dead!_"

Lord Bridwell grew angry and stormed over to where Zair and his Master were standing.

"_This was some sort of trick!_ You gave Sentinel the opportunity to kill our King!" Bridwell scolded the Ansei.

"We've done no such thing. I presented you with an opportunity at victory and you failed to achieve it." Qarim smartly answered back.

Lord Bridwell erupted into a tirade of curse words and took off to the rear of the formation. It appeared that neither Sentinel nor Daggerfall had suffered too many casualties from the skirmish. The Ansei anticipated that one of the armies would soon resume their attack. However with news of King Lysandus' death, Zair was skeptical that Daggerfall would pursue the campaign on Betony for any longer. He tried not to show how pleased he was with the way things had turned out.

One hour passed, then another, before any progress was made. From across Cryngaine Field, a rider from Sentinel was making his way towards the Daggerfall lines.

"_Parle!_" The rider yelled, asking for a representative from Daggerfall to meet him for a discussion of terms.

Lord Bridwell rode out to meet him personally. The two men spent several minutes talking before the Daggerfall general returned to the line.

"What's happened?" Zair asked.

"Camaron wants a duel with Lysandus. Winner takes all."

"That's very brave of the King Camaron but poses a problem for you." Qarim added jokingly.

No sooner had Master Qarim spoke those words did a roar of cheers erupt from the Daggerfall ranks. Mounted atop a white steed was Gothryd, son of Lysandus, adorned in the battle armour of the King of Daggerfall. The young Breton raised his sword above his head invoking the praise of his soldiers.

"It would appear we _have _a King." Lord Bridwell smiled.

King Gothryd continued his ride through the ranks and eventually made his way to Lord Bridwell at the frontlines. The boy was young, even younger than Zair.

"Long live King Gothryd!" Bridwell cried out, his troops echoing his cheer.

"What is the situation Bridwell?" Gothryd asked. His voice was shaky and laced with nervousness.

"Your highness, King Camaron has requested a way to end the war once and for all. He desires a duel."

Qarim and Zair listed intently.

"_I cannot fight Camaron. He is a great warrior._" Gothryd whispered.

Bridwell pulled the young King aside away from the ears of his troops.

"You must your highness! We can end this war and spare the lives of all of these men. You must be brave!"

"If I fight Camaron, I will die and those soldiers who we have already lost in this campaign will have died for nothing!"

It was at that moment that Gothryd caught Zair's stare. His brow narrowed in confusion as he looked upon the two white-robed Redguards.

"_Who are they?" _The King asked of Bridwell.

"The Emperor has sent them milord. They caused the fog although I'm not sure how."

King Gothryd dismounted from his horse and stood toe-toe with Zair. The Breton looked him over, examining his shoulders, legs and neck.

"What size shoe do you wear?"

* * *

Before Zair could utter a syllable of protest, he found himself stripped of his bloody robes, dressed in the armour of the King of Daggerfall atop the King's white steed. The boy king was hiding somewhere in the nearby woods, waiting to accept the glory of Zair's victory over King Camaron. It was despicable. Qarim led Zair's horse away from the Breton lines, taking him out to the middle of the field.

"I can't believe I'm doing this Master."

"We've been presented with a unique opportunity. Only one more person has to die here today. _Make sure it's not you._" Qarim ordered.

"Why don't we just let Camaron kill _the little shit_?"

"Because if Daggerfall loses this duel they will continue on in their campaign. Bridwell is a dishonourable man who will not accept defeat. If Camaron falls, the Redguard people will honour their agreement and the war will end."

Zair took that as a compliment. Qarim stopped the horse and Zair dismounted.

"End this so we and all these other poor souls can go home in peace. And don't think just because you made a shehai that you can just waltz through this duel. Camaron is renowned for his skill as a fighter."

Qarim patted Zair on the shoulder and began the trek back to the Breton lines, leading Gothryd's white horse behind him.

A few minutes passed before Zair could see the figure of another rider making his way to the center of Cryngaine field. Clad in a suit of white and gold steel and chainmail armour, King Camaron rode bravely across the field stopping a few yards away from Zair. In order to hide his identity, Zair lowered the visor on his helmet which covered everything but his eyes.

"Lysandus?"

King Camaron strutted confidently towards him.

"No, Lysandus is dead. I am Gothryd his son." Zair lied.

"Lysandus _is dead?_ How did he die?"

"An arrow to the neck."

King Camaron was silent. He removed his helmet and tucked it underneath his arm.

"I must admit, I'm not sorry your father is dead."

"Neither am I." Zair replied.

"I'm sorry?" Camaron questioned with bewilderment.

"I never liked him."

The King of Sentinel seemed to shrug this comment off.

"My offer has not changed, whoever wins this duel shall claim the Isle of Betony and let that be the end of it."

"Agreed."

"I hope that you don't consider it unsportsmanlike but I would like to use a battle axe for this occasion."

King Camaron placed his helmet back on and began to circle around Zair.

"I have no problem with that. I should warn you that I will be using a two-handed blade."

Zair was overwhelmed with excitement. The King's demeanor and professionalism alleviated his fear that he was somehow taking advantage of the ruler of Sentinel. The upcoming fight would be conducted with respect and honour, and the loser would die with dignity. Judging from Camaron's calm behaviour, Zair wasn't exactly confident that _he _would be the one walking away.

"Truly? A Breton that fights with a _katana? _Perhaps a clever ploy to get me to change my strategy?"

"No tricks here King, but I would suggest changing to a sword and shield combination. It is the _best chance you've got_."

Zair was smiling behind his visor. The two warriors continued to circle one another. King Camaron tossed away his shield and removed the shortsword from around his hip.

"Good luck to you young King."

"And you."


	9. Zair's Tale: Chapter 3 Part 2

King Camaron bowed before charging in fast with an overhead strike from his mighty ebony war axe. Zair easily dodged the attack but was nearly caught by surprise when Camaron redirected the blade back at his torso. The King of Sentinel continued on the offensive, jabbing the axe at Zair's legs. The Ansei was not used to fighting in heavy steel armour and was still fatigued from the initial skirmish. Zair desperately wanted to remove his heavy helmet but doing so would reveal him as an imposter.

Camaron was extremely skilled with the two-sided axe, making use of both blades and the handle. _Swing high, swing low, jab, jab, swipe at the feet. _Zair had yet to make a move against his opponent.

"You're not going easy on me, are you?" Camaron jested.

The King had been on the offensive for several minutes yet his voice was calm with no indications of fatigue. Zair readjusted the grip on his katana and proceeded to dodge another set of swipes and thrusts by the King. Zair's movements were stifled by the heavy steel coverings over his feet. He had not fought in heavy armour since his Initiate training and the weight was now taking its toll.

Zair jumped back as a vertical swipe narrowly missed impacting with his shoulder. The steel coverings on his feet caused him to trip and he stumbled backwards. King Camaron seized the advantage and knocked Zair to floor with a strike to the gut from the battle-axe's handle. Zair fell to his back but easily rolled and came to his feet. During the course of his fall, the Ansei's cumbersome helmet fell off. Camaron halted his attack. He looked at a Redguard, not the Breton son of King Lysandus, standing before him.

King Camaron hesitated and Zair seized the moment, slicing at the vulnerable points in his opponent's armour. The Ansei's blade penetrated the flesh near Camaron's armpit and the King dropped his axe. Feeling pity for the King, who was still clearly puzzled, Zair backed off and allowed Camaron to collect his weapon.

"Who are you?" Camaron asked.

"I am an Ansei warrior from the Temple of Satakal in Rihad. My name is Zair."

Camaron was clearly upset by this, nearly coming to tears.

"Where is Lysandus?" A bloodstain near the King's arm was forming. It dripped down the length of his arm.

"Dead. I did not lie about that."

"And Gothryd? Where is he?"

"He's hiding. He didn't want to fight you." Zair laughed.

Camaron, clutching his wound, began laughing too.

"What a sight this must be eh?" Camaron commented. "You said you are an Ansei? Like Frandar Hunding?"

"Yes I am."

"And you managed to get cut by the likes of me?" Camaron joked.

Zair didn't understand until the King pointed to the cloth covering Zair's armour. There were three tears in the fabric, grazes from Camaron's axe that had not penetrated through the steel covering his torso.

"I'm still learning."

"Why are you doing this?" Camaron was now serious.

Zair remembered the words of his Master Qarim, spoken to him only hours before on the very same field he now stood.

"Because…sometimes we have to do things even if we don't want to – "

"For the common good." Camaron finished.

Zair felt a wave of shame overcome him. Tears streamed down his face.

"I will regret this for the rest of my days."

Camaron nodded. Zair was unsure what he meant by this gesture. He could tell the wound in the King's armpit was taking affect. The King would not be able to hold his battle-axe any longer than one more attack. Zair readied his blade. King Camaron lunged forward with the ebony axe held above his head. His battle cry shook Zair to the core.

The Ansei charged forward, his katana pierced through Camaron's heart. A roar of cheers erupted among the Breton lines as King Camaron of Sentinel fell dead on the grassy fields of Cryngaine.


	10. Chapter 3 Part 2

Zair nodded to the fellow Masters and assumed his place in the circle. Master Surro shut and secured the doors of the Meditation Room and sat beside him.

"Good evening Brothers and Maidens. I see everyone is here, but I seem to be the only one who is lost _as to why_." Zair chuckled.

"Master, if you would please allow me to explain?" Master Surro requested.

Zair nodded in approval.

"Just a few moments ago I was approached by Priestess Denilwen who informed me of a vision she had while in the Temple. I have asked all of you here to help us interpret the meaning of the vision. _Priestess Denilwen_." Master Surro called for the Anseiguarding the door to let the Bosmer inside.

Priestess Denilwen was a new comer to the Temple in Rihad. Worshippers of Yokudan divinities were a small minority in Valenwood but the Bosmer, just seventeen years of age, came with high recommendations. Her unquestionable loyalty to the Temple placed her among the few select outsiders who knew the existence of the Halls.

Denilwen seemed very intimidated as she walked into the room. Zair motioned for her to sit in the middle of the circle. She hesitated. The Hall Master stood and held her by the hand, leading her to a small rug in the center of the room.

"Please Sister, share with us what you have seen. We are not here to judge you, just speak from the heart." Zair comforted.

The Bosmer sat shyly stuffing her hands deep into her lap and hunching her shoulders forward.

"_Thank…" _The Bosmer cleared her throat. "Thank you esteemed Masters and Ansei for seeing me. I am honored to be in your presence." She began.

The Council bowed their heads and each tried to give a comforting smile to the sheepish priestess.

"I first began my service to the gods of Yokuda when I was thirteen. Since that time I have prayed each day for the gods to speak to me so that I may better deliver _Their _message and honour _Their_ presence." Denilwen continued.

"And have they spoken to you now Sister?" Master Lencolia asked.

"I believe they have Master."

"Please describe this vision to us as best you can."

Denilwen closed her eyes, her whole body releasing the tension in her muscles. She seemed to be forcibly placing herself in a trance, returning to the moment she received her vision.

_I was tasked with cleaning the Altar of Satakal by Priest Jorg. I was scrubbing the inside of the Altar bowl when I noticed some dirt on the floor. I placed my hand on the Altar and knelt down to clean it. When I stood back up and tried to retract my hand, I found I couldn't move it as if it had been frozen in place like ice. I tried using my other arm to pull my hand off the Altar but could not. I then propped both of my feet on the Altar and tried using my legs to kick off of it. Then suddenly the grip on my arm was released, almost like someone just let go. I flew backwards and landed on the floor but I was not in the Temple. _

"Did you recognize where you were?" Master Surro asked.

_I could see the the stars, the moons Masser and Secunda, the sun, the entire universe at my fingertips yet somehow out of reach! It was dark yet I could feel warm sunshine on my face. There was thunder but no trace of storm clouds and I shivered as if it were the dead of winter but no snowflakes fell. My mind thought of standing and though my feet did not move, I stood upright. I was barefoot. The soil beneath my feet was fresh and moist, moving almost as if it were alive. _

_I was in a forest not like any I have known. An endless expanse of hundreds of thousands of redwood trees as far as I could see that grew so tall I couldn't see their tops! This forest was primitive and knew neither the touch of man nor mer. The tree bark was thick and smooth, like the warm embrace of a loved one. There was a faint glow shining out from inside the trunks of every tree, basking the forest floor in a mist of light. I crawled inside the trunk of the closest tree, able to manipulate my body through the tiniest of spaces between the maze of thick roots. _

_There was hollow chamber. Inside was a basin of glowing green water, its surface as smooth as glass. The heat from the water warmed my skin when I knelt over the basin. I touched the surface of the still water, sending ripples across the pool. The water turned crystal clear._

Tears now streamed from Denilwen's eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

_I saw images! My father rubbing my mother's belly, my birth, my journey from Valenwood, even my Confirmation as a priestess of this Temple! I was overcome with joy but terribly frightened…so I ran. I crawled, crying, shaking, clawing my way desperately through the roots until I stumbled back outside and collapsed onto the soil. I prayed for Father Satakal to deliver me from this terrible place, to wake me from this dream! _

_I heard breathing. There was a black…a black wolf or a dog in my path. It sat beside me making no movements. I wasn't even sure it knew I was there until I started petting it. Its fur was soft and I felt much safer with him by my side. He licked my face and I laughed. The wolf barked and broke free from my grasp, running away and disappearing into the forest. I didn't want it to leave so I gave chase. Miraculously I was able to keep pace, sprinting faster than I had ever run before. The wolf stopped at the base of a tree. It looked at me and somehow I knew it wanted me to go inside. I did. _

"What did you find?"

_A basin of water, just the same as the other, only it was not me I saw in the reflection. It was a throne room of some kind. There were four empty thrones. I could see in the headrest of each one was a shiny red diamond. The reflection looked so real, the diamonds were sparkling in the light. I reached out to touch one of the diamonds but the throne room began to shake. _

Denilwen began to breath heavier as the memory of her visions became more vivid. Her body swayed back and forth and she grabbed her robes tightly as if she were in pain. Master Zair watched and listened with intent.

_I saw a great fire! I could feel the heat burning my face. There was destruction, sounds of suffering, crying. The diamonds on the thrones cracked and fragmented into millions of tiny pieces. Suddenly the pool of water itself caught flame quickly filling the chamber with thick smoke and unbearable heat. I escaped the chamber but the fire had spread outside to the forest. The sky was scorched red, the fresh soil now charred and barren. Trees were lit aflame, turning to ash in moments. I saw the wolf waiting for me, seemingly unafraid or uncaring about the fire that surrounded us. I huddled close to the wolf, hugging him tightly around the neck. I was so scared! That is when I noticed the wolf had a mark on its neck…a red diamond. Like a birthmark! _

_The fire spread closer and closer to us. My skin boiled and my lungs filled with smoke. I couldn't breathe. I pleaded for the wolf to do something, to save my life. The wolf looked at me; its eyes were glowing brightly. The beast howled and there was a brilliant flash of light…_


	11. Chapter 3 Part 3

Denilwen opened her eyes and released the grip on her robes. Gradually the colour returned to her face and she became as normal and shy as when she first walked in.

"Priest Jorg found me on the floor, my skin still warm to the touch. He saw me stumble backwards and rushed over to help me. To him, the event happened in a single moment."

None of the Masters spoke, each taking time to let the words of the priestess sink in.

"Thank you for sharing this experience with us." Master Qarim, known to the students as _The Librarian_, thanked. "Have you anything else?"

The priestess paused before answering.

_Hilda, whose womb bore the forefathers of Ysgramor, beseeched the god__ Herskídra Ormr to grant her knowledge on the fate her husband who was __Anvindr, chieftain of the Nedes of Atmora for he had gone into battle and since not returned for seven years. In a waking dream, __Herskídra Ormr took the hand of Hilda and guided her through __Maðviðr, the Forest of Life, an endless realm with trees numbering equal to the living, for sheltered in their roots were vibrant pools from which the past present and future could be seen… _

"Priest Jorg shared this story with me after I described to him my experience. He says that the Cyrodilic translation of Herskídra Ormris_ Hermaeus Mora._"

"The Daedric Prince?"

Denilwen nodded. "He who is able to read the fates of men and mer as told in the stars. Keeper of the Infinite Knowledge."

"The Daedra are as powerful as they are mysterious. They are deceivers and trouble-rousers." One of the Senior Ansei warned. "If the Princes of Oblivion are responsible for this vision, we cannot go about interpreting their message lightly."

Several members of the Hall Council agreed. Others offered a different view. The debate began. Master Zair listened as ideas were conjectured and the battle lines were drawn, each Ansei suggesting a different interpretation of the same piece of the vision then garnering support among his peers. Priestess Denilwen sat quietly in the middle of the circle, too timid to speak. Zair raised his hand for silence.

"Sister, you can see that there are many ways to go about interpreting this tale. One thing we can all agree on is that you have truly been granted _a vision_."

The shy Bosmer smiled at the Redguard and bowed.

"I would spare you the bickering of a few old men, my dear." Zair stood and helped Denilwen to her feet. "You may return to your duties. Should you remember anything else, please do not hesitate to come see us."

Master Zair motioned for an Ansei to escort her upstairs. Once the Bosmer had left the room, the debate continued.

"Master, the red diamond must represent the Empire, or at least the _Emperor_. The four thrones Denilwen saw must be the Emperor and his three sons."

The Council made no objections.

"What of the black wolf? It bore a red diamond as well?"

"Perhaps it means there is a threat close to the Emperor. An attempt to overthrow the Empire?" Master Surro suggested.

"The wolf _aided_ Denilwen. I don't think it was a threat."

"We can't be sure. We should warn the Imperial Council." Master Lencolia suggested.

"Why? The Emperor's bodyguards, the _Blades_, can handle anything thrown at them. I served with them on numerous occasions and I know them to be capable warriors."

"If the Emperor and his sons are in danger then we _must _do our best to keep any harm from befalling them. The Blades might not be enough, they need our help! We should warn them." Master Lencolia replied.

"Emperor Uriel has shown he is willing to use the Ansei to achieve his personal goals of conquest. Master Zair and Master Qarim know this better than most. Why help him again?"

"The Emperor is a respected leader and he has done well to keep the Empire in a relative state of peace. We must take that into account." Master Surro countered.

"_Peaceful! _He subjugates his people with Legionnaires in every corner of Tamriel!"

More arguing. Zair sat in deep thought, contemplating his options. Even with his personal grievances against the Septims, Master Surro was correct in giving the Empire credit for keeping the peace across the majority of Tamriel.

The Hall Master raised his hand for silence and prepared to render a decision.

"Great care _must _always be taken when involving our Hall in the affairs of the Empire. It is this caution, exercised by my predecessors, that has protected the city of Rihad and our Temple for generations. In this very room Ansei _thousands of years before our time_ sat and passed judgment. As Nirn changed around us _this Hall _remained. As kings and empires rose, conquered and fell _this Hall _remained. I have felt the cold sting of regret in my heart for fourty years now but I will not allow this to dissuade me from making a sound decision so that for now and until the ending of time _this Hall _will remain."

Zair turned and faced the Senior Ansei, proven _Sword Singers_ on their way to becoming Masters, who were all seated together on the opposite end of the room.

"I implore and caution you all, the future generations who will lead this Temple in the years to come, not to use my decision as precedence. My ruling is not intended to further the agenda of an Empire or justify the necessity of our involvement with the 'outside' world. Search your hearts, _listen to the songs which resonate throughout your being_. Be true to the _Way _and you willalways find the answers to the questions you seek."

The Redguard came to his feet as did the remaining members of the Council.

"Based on the vision provided to us by Sister Denilwen, I have decided to send one _kibut _to the Imperial City under the supervision of a Master Ansei. Their task will be to locate the members of the Imperial Family, assess the situation and if necessary safeguard them from any threat."

The members of the Council nodded in approval.

"Who shall we send Master?"

Whoever Zair picked would be facing an unknown danger, charged with a mission of potentially epic importance. His decision might be at the cost of an Empire.

"_I _will lead our warriorsto Cyrodiil."


	12. Chapter 4

**4 **

"_Mister Finn. Wake up Mister Finn_."

The author was slow to wake. Sean stood and collected his overcoat off the floor, folded into a makeshift pillow. The Temple's Archives were stored beneath a nearby warehouse located in the Temple Plaza. Sean had never seen such extensive chronicling. Hundreds of thousands of books, scrolls and documents lined the shelves of the subterranean chamber, safe from salty sea air wafting in from Abecean Sea. Most of the documents predated the establishment of the Cyrodilic Empire by millennia.

"Can I help you with something?" A friendly Temple priest asked. "You've been down here for the better part of a day. Father Zidvyda sent me to check on you."

"Is there anything to eat around here?"

It felt like it had been days since Sean sat down to a proper meal.

"The Temple Plaza usually doesn't have much in the way of food but you are in luck. Today is the 26th of First Seed, _The Festival of Blades_!"

"Is there food?"

"Lots."

* * *

"_Shom Bomarak!_" An elderly Redguard man exclaimed shaking the young author's hand vigorously.

"What did he say?" Sean asked his escort.

"It means _Happy Days, _the traditional Yokudan greeting for holidays."

"_Shom Bomarak." _Sean replied.

The man smiled and continued on his way dancing in a jovial manner. After several days of isolation, Sean was overwhelmed by the noise and upbeat atmosphere. All around the Temple Plaza, men, women and children were celebrating the Festival of Blades. The Temple itself was decorated with orange and purple candlelit lanterns and across the rooftops of the surrounding buildings were banners of all sizes, shapes and colours. Throngs of partygoers poured inside Temple District. Most of the native Redguards were dressed in ornate garments, robes of orange and red draped across their shoulders tied with sashes of purple and gold around their waist. Children engaged in play-battles with wooden swords and bows while teenage girls flirted shyly with boys. The festival had also attracted many curious foreigners, mostly mercenaries and soldiers-of-fortune who traveled to Rihad to train in the martial arts. Several Nords roared with laughter as they watched their Orc companion reluctantly dance with an old Redguard woman. Even the Argonians, Khajiit and Bosmer were in attendance, dancing together, sharing stories and drinks.

To the left and right of the main square, Temple priests had prepared a buffet of traditional Redguard foods: roasted pheasant, baked fish, stuffed vegetables basted in vinegar, curry and rice mixtures with sides of warm baked bread and fresh picked fruit. Priests distributed beverages poured from large casks of red wine and cold brown ale to each party guest as they entered the Plaza. Towards the center of the square were five young Redguards playing assorted woodwind and string instruments. Several drunken Redguards danced about in seemingly incoherent and spasmodic movements to the happy and uplifting music. The dancing Redguards would flail their hands in the air and swipe at each other, then bump their hips and smack their hands together. Sean stopped to marvel at this sight.

"Shom Bomarak." A familiar voice greeted.

"_Happy Days_ to you too Father."

Sean clasped the outstretched hand of Father Zidvyda.

"I'm glad you took the time to enjoy some of the festivities."

"To be honest I didn't even know they were going on."

"Really? I assumed that a man so cultured as you would be familiar with the Festival of Blades."

"I know it only by name and even then just barely. It seems to me that it's the same as any other holiday, _drunken dancing and all_." Sean joked.

"They're not just dancing Mister Finn, come watch."

The older Redguards bowed when Father Zidvyda passed by as they made their way to a large circle that was forming around the dancing drunks. The three men continued to flail wildly about. Sean struggled to understand what they were doing.

"It's a reenactment." Father Zidvyda explained.

Suddenly, several white-robed Temple priests motioned for the crowd to be quiet as torches were lit in a rehearsed manner. Father Zidvyda's calm voice complemented the musical narration of the reenactment.

_The Redguard people have long been regarded as the greatest fighters in Tamriel, their warrior culture stemming back thousands of years. In the earliest days when the Redguard knew themselves only as natives of Yokuda, self defense skills became a necessity on an island home to thousands of species of hostile beasts. _

The actors showed off their martial arts skills by making overly dramatic kicks and punches, each taking their turn to strike before having to dodge an attack from the other. The motions were rhythmic and hypnotizing as the bodies of the elderly Redguards ducked and rolled to avoid the blows.

_Chief among these hostile species were a race of gigantic goblin like creatures known as the Krampu. For many years they terrorized the native villages, stealing food, destroying and killing. _

From behind a nearby building emerged the Krampu, Redguards dressed in elaborately designed and frightening costumes. Their bodies were covered in white fur and fastened to their hands were gardening implements, fashioned to look like claws. Wooden horns protruded from their heads and their faces were covered with masks. Much to Sean's surprise, these actors towered over the crowd, standing nearly ten feet tall. A closer examination revealed that the actors were balancing on long wooden stilts fastened around their ankles. Small children hid fearfully behind their parents' legs and the adults pointed and applauded at the entrance of the monstrous beasts.

_The Yokudan natives fought valiantly, but were too disorganized and could not stop the onslaught of these merciless goblins. _

The Krampu roared and attacked the other actors with their gardening-tool claws. The Yokudan natives kicked and punched at the air, but the beasts would not yield.

_All that changed when one day, a young Redguard woman emerged and led the natives into battle against the Krampu! Her name was K'ni and under her leadership the natives were able to organize themselves into an army. _

From a rooftop overlooking the square, a beautiful young Redguard teen appeared dressed in ornate coloured clothing with a red headband tied around her head. In an amazing display of acrobatics she somersaulted down from the rooftop into the battle. The audience clapped and cheered and children threw small pieces of sweet-bread at her. Sean understood this to be a sign of admiration. The Krampu actors recoiled in fear as K'ni handed red bandanas to the Yokuda actors. It was at this time that Sean noticed that almost _everyone _in the audience was also wearing one of these bandanas around their head.

_Seeing the vast amounts of organized natives, the Krampu hastily retreated to the safety of their jungle sanctuary, but not before K'ni cut off the head of the Krampu leader_. _The goblins were never seen or heard from again and the Yokudan people prospered. _

Wielding a large wooden sword, K'ni chased down the Krampu giving them several comical kicks to their backsides. The Krampu wobbled away on their wooden legs with the Yokudan natives trailing close behind. The audience applauded and cheered as the members of the reenactment revealed their identities and accepted praise from the audience. With the reenactment over, the festivities resumed.

"Thank you for the narration."

"You are quite welcome. In the past, we have separated ourselves from the city outside our walls, but now we try to participate in more community activities. This is the second year we've hosted the Festival of Blades."

Sean smiled and took a large gulp of his beverage. Father Zidvyda and Sean lazily strolled about, talking and enjoying the company of the party guests.

"Finding the author of _The Reachman_ is proving difficult Mister Finn. I appreciate you being patient."

"That's okay. I've enjoyed looking through the library. It's not every day you get to hold a six thousand year old document in your hand."

"I'm glad you can see a silver lining in all this." Father Zidvyda chuckled. "Why did you really come here Mister Finn, to speak with an _author_ or to speak with _Him_?"

Sean saw no sense in lying. "You are correct. I am looking for he who is known as _The Reachman._ I need to find out if he actually exists."

Father Zidvyda nodded his head, motioning for the author to follow him back inside the Temple.

"Did you know that _Reachmen _is a term for anyone born of the Western Reach? To speak of _The Reachman_ implies much more. In my lifetime there has only been one person I knew that fit this description."


	13. Chapter 5 Part 1

**5**

**25 Last Seed, 3E433, Cyrodiil**

_Brother, _

_You are ordered to make haste to the Brina Cross Inn in Cyrodiil Province, north of the city of Anvil. Once there, you will wait for further instructions._

It was unusual for the Temple to send out correspondence to Ansei in the field. The Walk About was a journey of solitude, spent either in deep meditation or active adventuring (for a lack of a better term). At first Zid was worried something may have happened to the Temple but was reassured by the courier that everything was fine in Rihad. The courier further explained that correspondence, such as the letter delivered to him, was only used when the Temple needed to urgently organize a _kibut_ of Ansei.

The Dunmer stood motionless among the tall grass as it swayed back and forth with the wind. His dark green skin was warmed by rays of sunlight. Having spent the majority of his Walk Abouts in the Imperial province, Zid grew love Cyrodiil. Cyrodiil was dissimilar to the arid fields and bleak volcanic ashlands of his home Morrowind. Here the temperature was moderate, the rain was always cold and the wind never too gusty. When he wasn't busy studying the art of forming a _shehai_ he would escape north to the mountains of County Chorrol. He frequented the site of an abandoned fort northeast of the city. There he would practice his _Yokudan_ calligraphy, and hunt for deer and wild boar. At night, he would lie underneath the stars doing his best to identify constellations. The clearing he and his _kibutnim_ were now gathered in reminded him of that special place.

This was Zid's sixth Walk About since he was bestowed the white robes of an Ansei. His teammates unanimously decided their first Walk About would be spent together. Even after four years of confinement to the Temple, the team was reluctant to part ways. Their first sojourn took them north to the _Western Reach_ on the border of Skyrim and High Rock.

Roe had finally returned home after more than a decade since being taken into slavery. The barbaric nature of the _Reachmen_, the inhabitants of the Western Reach, was well known across the Empire. The Dunmer was initially very apprehensive at what kind of reception the young Ansei would receive even if escorted by one of their kinsmen. He was surprised to find a simple-natured yet highly educated intermingling of Orcish, Nord, Redguard and Breton culture. Zid would always cherish the memory of watching Roe reunite with his family and he would never forget the experience known as the _All-Thing _where the Reachmen elders educated the young Ansei in the ways of nature and enhanced their connection to the elements.

For their second Walk About, Roe, Jiles and Ayisha delved into the wild jungles of Elsweyr while Zid and Khochi journeyed to the unexplored territories near the infamous _Ghost Gate _in Morrowind. Zid and Khochi returned to the Temple bearing new armour pieces and weapons. Roe and Jiles came back with new scars and bruises. Subsequent journeys took his friends across all of Tamriel, but Zid always made time to return to Chorrol. This most recent Walk About paired Zid with Roe for a trip back to Cyrodiil Province. Jiles, Ayisha and Khochi remained at the Temple, training with Master Surro in the advanced curriculum. Once an Initiate completed basic schooling and earned the title of _Ansei_ there was still many more years of additional training. Senior ranking Ansei mentored the inexperienced Sword Singers in the art of forming a spirit sword. There was no end to an Ansei's training.

All life experiences, great battles and casual encounters alike aided an Ansei in their development as a warrior and a person. Ansei were periodically tested in order to advance in the _hierarchy_ though the concept of rank was nonexistent in a martial art that valued merit over title. Ansei was the basic rank bestowed to Initiates who completed the basic and advanced schooling. To advance in status, an Ansei needed to demonstrate the controlled and deliberate formation of a shehai under both calm and exigent circumstances. When this ability was achieved, an Ansei could then add red stitching to their robes. Because the art of forming a spirit sword took years to master, Senior Ansei were experienced and often battle-tested warriors, proficient in at least one other language and _masters _of a specific weapon or martial art style. For a Sword Singer to earn the title _Senior_, a lengthy review process was devised to challenge their mental and physical limitations. The next and final promotion in rank was _Master _which required years of experience, a mastery of the shehai_, _and a commanding knowledge of the art of _Shehai Shen She Ru. _Zidvyda was eager to prove himself worthy of bearing such an honorable title.

Roe stood beside Zid and joined him in admiring the view. For several moments the two warriors were silent, their eyes fixated upon a family deer slowly trotting their way across the golden fields.

"Must've been nice living here." Zid spoke first.

"It had its moments."

Roe was never much of a conversationalist, always keeping his speech terse and to the point. Zid and Roe watched as the buck led his family out of sight behind a pile of boulders.

"Have we figured out why we're here?"

"Master Zair knows."

"_Master Zair? _What makes you think _he _will come?" Zid asked in surprise.

"He's over in the stables." Roe answered plainly.

Zid threw up his arms in frustration.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Now."

Roe patted the Dunmer on the back and the two walked over to join their team gathered in the stables of the Brina Cross Inn. Roe and Zidvyda exchanged greetings with their teammates after nearly two weeks of separation. The two Ansei bowed to Master Zair before taking their seats in front of him.

"Thank you Zid, Roe. I want that to be the last time any of you bow to me. You will not call me _Master_ or _sir_ and you will not speak of the Temple for the remainder of the trip. Understand?" Master Zair was serious but cordial.

"Yes Zair." They answered in unison.

"You said we're going on a trip?" Jiles asked.

"Yes, to the Imperial City. I've asked you to accompany me because I trust in your skills and professionalism. This will be a good experience for you all as well. With the way things have been these past few years we never get the chance to train our younger generations in _real-world situations._"

"Mast – I mean Zair – what's happening?"

Zair pressed his lips together and let out a long breath through his nose.

"Two days ago we, _the Council_, were given information that the lives of the Emperor and his children are in danger. The Council has decided to send a team of Ansei to assess the welfare of the Imperial family and if necessary to take protective measures against any assailants."

The young Ansei stared blankly at their Master.

"What's wrong?" Zair asked.

"_We have a council?_" Jiles asked.

"Yeah, since when did we answer to the Council?"

Zair couldn't help but laugh.

"_Our Council, _the Hall Council." Zair explained. "The other Masters and I sometimes help the Temple priests with visions or dreams they wish to have interpreted."

"And somebody had a dream the Emperor was going to die?"

"Not exactly."

The young Ansei listened carefully as Zair described the visions of a priestess named Denilwen. Zid recognized the name. He caught the Bosmer's attention on more than one occasion as he passed through the Temple. She was very beautiful, but very shy. When Zair completed relaying his tale, there was silence.

"I don't expect you all to _know _how to interpret things like this. With time you will acquire the experience but that is a lesson best saved for later."

Zair stood and motioned for his young Ansei to do so as well.

"For now, we make for the Imperial City."


	14. Chapter 5 Part 2

The Ansei hadn't been riding for five minutes before Jiles and Khochi were caught up in one of their usual arguments. Today's verbal dispute - _Why the existence of the Daedra Prince Hermaeus Mora didn't confirm the concept of predestination_. While the argument raged on, Zid caught a glimpse of one of the oldest cities in Cyrodiil, sat high atop a large plateau.

"Have you ever been to Kvatch, Roe?" Zid asked.

"I have."

"What's it like?"

"Pleasant."

"Come on Roe! Is it anything like Chorrol?"

"The prison's not bad." Roe smiled.

"How'd you end up there?"

"Arrested for trespassing. Escaped my cell and never went back. The _Wolfpack _is very thorough with their pursuit of criminals."

Zair overheard Roe's comment and abruptly stopped his horse.

"Roe what did you say? _What did you just say?" _

"I was arrested. You knowI used to be a thief, _right?_"

"Yes, yes! But who arrested you? A wolf you said?"

"The Wolfpack? It's what the city guard call themselves on a count that the seal of the city is a –"

"_A Black Wolf?" _Zair finished.

Zid quickly caught on to his Master's suspicions, recalling the description of Priestess Denilwen's vision.

"Master, you don't think? The black wolf_ is_ Kvatch?"

Zair nodded.

"Maybe it means who we are looking for is _in_ Kvatch."

"I'm not sure yet if there is a _who_ or _what_ to look for, but I think you are correct in believing that the black wolf has some sort of connection to Kvatch. As this is very likely the case, we will have to divide up. I want you to take Khochi into the city and try to find out what you can." Master Zair ordered. "Ayisha, Jiles, Roe and I will continue on to the Imperial City to make contact with the Imperial family."

"The Emperor is guarded by _The Blades_. They are fierce warriors, do not underestimate them." Jiles, a former Imperial Legionnaire, contributed. "He travels with a public bodyguard detail easily recognizable by their blue and gold armour, but count on their being Blades nearby in disguise. If they perceive you a threat, _they will not hesitate _to kill you. Be cautious."

The mood grew extremely tense. Master Zair shook the hands of each Ansei. Ayisha, Khochi, Jiles, Roe and Zid, were ready to prove themselves. Zair sensed their uneasiness.

"I would not have chosen you to accompany me if I did not have complete confidence in your abilities." Zair began. "Remember your training, rely on your teammates and we will _all _meet at the Brina Cross Inn in three days time. Good luck. _Don't screw up_."

* * *

Sean was conducting his discussion with Zidvyda as if he were interviewing a source for one of his books. They had left the festivities of the Temple Plaza behind and adjourned to a private room in the Temple's east wing. Sean could still hear the laughter and music from outside penetrating through the thick stone walls. The Festival of Blades had eased the tension between the author and the priest still lingering from their initial meeting. Father Zidvyda was being cooperative about his knowledge of Roe and _The Reachman_.

"You mentioned your team split up and Roe went to the Imperial City?"

"Yes."

"And you went to Kvatch?"

"I did, with Khochi."

"Were you there for the attack?"

"I was." Zidvyda answered without hesitation.

"I am sorry you had to go through that."

"Don't feel sorry for me Mister Finn, I could at least protect myself. I feel sadness for the hundreds of souls that could not, _that didn't even have a chance_."

Sean remained quiet for several moments until it appeared Zidvyda was ready to speak again.

"What happened after your team left?" Sean continued.

"You would know that better than most Mister Finn. I arrived in Kvatch on the evening of the 25th and three days later the city was destroyed. The rest is history."

"History with a lot of unanswered questions."

"Look I can only tell you what I saw and experienced. Throughout the Crisis we were often separated. I am willing to share with you what I know but everything else you'll have to either find out through another source or leave to speculation."

"Father, would I be where I am today if I left things _to speculation_?" Sean boasted.

"No. I guess you wouldn't."


	15. Chapter 6 Part 1

**6**

Zair stood with his leg propped up on a wooden box stacked on the Docklands of the Imperial City. He bit into the juicy apple he had purchased in the Market District and watched as Jiles and Ayisha received a verbal assault from a female Dunmer pirate standing next to her ship. Thankfully both of his students were patient and did not escalate the situation. Doing so would have surely hampered their efforts to locate the Emperor with subtlety.

Zair had sent his team of three Ansei scouring the City trying to find information about the Imperial family's location. Roe was last to return.

"He isn't in the Palace." He reported.

"Says who?"

"Tower guard."

"You believed them?" Zair asked.

Roe shook his head. "I did some searching for myself but security is tight at the top levels. I couldn't find him."

"Nice work."

"Thank you _Master_." Zair gave Roe a stern look. "Sorry. What do we do now?"

Zair ran through the possible courses of action. He still had his doubts about the mission, if anything was going to happen, or if they were already too late. He waved for Ayisha and Jiles to rejoin him.

"Anything?" Ayisha inquired.

"Nothing."

"We haven't tried asking around the Waterfront." Ayisha suggested. "Roe, do you still have contacts here in the city?"

"_Follow me_." He smiled.

* * *

"What in the name of Arkay! _You're dead!_" Puny Ancus cried out in shock.

"Says who? I'm standing right here." Roe answered smartly.

"Says Armand!He pegged you for dead after you went missing."

"I need information." Roe demanded.

"After all these years youstroll into my part of the world like you own the place asking for _information? _I want some information, _like where in Oblivion have you been?_"

"I'm not here to reminisce about the _good ole' days_. I need information." Roe repeated.

"And I need coin. Nothing's changed since you've left."

"How much?"

"Depends on what you wanna know…"

"_Where are the Emperor and his Princes?_"

Roe's blunt demeanor and "to the point" attitude was necessary when dealing with the _thieves _and _con artists _of the Waterfront. It made Zair and the rest of the group more than uncomfortable.

"_Whoa!_" Puny Ancus pulled Roe aside. "Why? You and your buddies gonna ruff him up or something? Who's your lady friend?" Puny Ancus nodded toward Ayisha.

"No questions and she's none of your concern. What is a concern is if you don't tell me what I want to know and keep quiet about it, I'll make sure _Captain Lex_ gets word of what really goes down in the Garden at midnight._ Catch my drift?_" Roe had certainly made a very big bluff threatening to turn his former comrades in to the city guard.

"_Okay okay, _you mean business. You've _changed_ man. Unfortunately my prices haven't. Let's say _300 gold_ for each kid and _500_ for the Emperor."

"200 and 300." Roe bartered.

"300 and 500." Puny Ancus wouldn't budge.

"150 and 350."

"300 and 500."

"I'll give you 1400 _gold _for all of 'em, that's my final offer."

Roe had never been much of a haggler, or a mathematician.


	16. Chapter 6 Part 2

A purse full of gold and one hour later, Ayisha and Jiles were out on the trails of Princes Geldall, Enman and Ebel. Zair and Roe stood impatiently on the steps of the Imperial Palace. According to Puny Ancus, the Emperor's family was returning from various diplomatic missions across Tamriel. The Emperor himself was due to return to White Gold Tower within the next day.

"So do we go in or do we wait for him to come running out?" Roe joked.

"The real question we should ask is _if _these assassins are stupid enough to try and attack the Palace, how do they get in, in the first place?" Zair replied.

"Too many guards. No way to kill him unless they're already inside." Roe pointed out.

"If this is going to be a coup then the threat may very well be someone close to the Emperor."

Zair enjoyed speaking with Roe as a fellow warrior and mentor, much like his teacher Master Qarim had done with him on many Walk Abouts together. Zair squinted and blocked the light from the setting sun with his hand.

"Where did you get them, your weapons?" Roe asked examining the slender _katana _and dark black _wakizashi _fastened to Master Zair's waist.

Traditionally known as _Do Jan'a Yek _in the Yokudan native tongue_, _the school of fighting with dual blades, or _combining_ _two spirits as one, _was a technique usually reserved for Master Ansei who commanded a great understanding of _Shehai Shen She Ru_. The _two spirits _described the two swords, a long _katana _and a shorter _wakizashi. _Any Ansei who could demonstrate knowledge of dual-blade fighting had the honorary title _Do-Jan _added to their name.

"My katana I forged long ago, back when I was still an Initiate in the Halls, but this smaller blade was a reward, more like an _impromptu parting gift_ really." The two now walked side by side.

"Reward for what?"

Zair's face grew solemn and Roe could tell that the memory brought him discomfort. He immediately backed off the topic.

"I'm sorry. I understand….you might not…_nevermind._"

The Master Ansei smiled at Roe and patted him on the shoulder.

"Your instructors speak with me often. They have overheard stories of your days as a _mercenary_. You are reluctant to share this with your fellow Initiates?"

The young Ansei was embarrassed.

"You feel sorry for what you have done, this is natural." Zair comforted.

"No Zair. I loved my companions like family, my _only family _outside the Temple, but we were hired to do very bad things. We hurt people and killed innocents and I don't feel sorry for any of it. Does that make me _evil?_ Shouldn't I feel sorrow? Remorse? _Regret?_"

"Regret is a dangerous feeling Roe. You may remember from your lessons that it is one of the _Waru-omoi, _the _Forbidden Feelings_."

"I do Master, but you're telling me you don't feel _any_ regret?"

"I never said that, I said it is dangerous to do so. Hatred, contempt, anger, doubt, guilt – the _Waru-omoi _can quickly lead an Ansei off the path of the Way." He quoted from the ancient tomes on Ansei philosophy.

Roe nodded in understanding, struggling not to become overwhelmed with remorse and guilt, the very emotions his Master had just warned him about.

"What you are feeling is _confliction_. You fear that feeling regret for your deeds will somehow dishonor your teammates – those whom you still love very deeply. While a mercenary, the nature of your duties mattered not so long as you remained faithful to the team. This is not too different from how an Ansei must live their lives faithful to _the Way_, regardless of the duties asked of them_._"

"I am still a killer – _a murderer._"

"Differentiating between the two is a matter of _perspective._ A farmer who kills the bandit in defense of his family is no different than the thief who kills a farmer for his crops. Life is taken either way. Our path is _balance, _our watchword _impartiality._"

"Neutrality is a myth."

"These are the lessons passed down to us from Ansei past. We live and die by them."

"There _**is**_ right and wrong_._" Roe argued.

"Indeed, and we are taught this from birth. But what if the thief steals to feed his sick wife and children from the farmer who greedily hoards his crop from the townspeople to fatten his own belly? An Ansei mustn't choose sides between _right _and _wrong_. There are no sides. There is only the Way."

"I can't accept that. I know in my heart what I did was wrong and I hope that by doing some good for the world I can atone for my mistakes."

"Not many _junior _Ansei would tell the _Hall Master _the millennia old philosophies of _Shehai Shen She Ru_ are flawed."

"My views are also a matter of _perspective_. Just because I disagree with them doesn't make them flawed. It means I have chosen to follow _my Way _instead of _the Way_."

Zair smiled and removed his blade from its sheath. He held it out in front of him so Roe could see.

"This blade belonged to the King of Sentinel, Camaron was his name. I call it _Sentinel's Veil_. It is the burden for a mistake I atone for with every passing day."

For a moment, Roe saw his Master not as a skilled warrior, but an aged Redguard filled with sorrow and regret the same as he. Zair furrowed his brow and sighed deeply. His mind returned to the grassy plains of Cryngaine Field, to the dull eyes of the men fallen by his hand.

"I try my hardest to stay true to _the Way_ and not allow my own feelings to distract me in my judgments. King Camaron was a true fighter and an honourable man. Rather than sacrifice his armies in battle, he challenged his opponent King Lysandus to single combat. Lysandus was a wicked man Roe, _I saw it in his eyes._ If he lost to Camaron, his generals would've continued the war over Betony Island. Camaron's generals honoured the terms of the duel and the war ended when he fell. He died for being an honest man. _I killed him _fighting in Lysandus' place. I can never forgive myself for the murder I committed."

The two Ansei paced slowly through the rows of graves surrounding the Palace.

"How are you able to subdue these _Forbidden Feelings _and form a s_hehai?_"

"Our Grandmaster Frandar Hunding taught us how to channel emotional energy, _omoi_, into _shehai, _spirit swords. We categorize our emotions in extremes: the _Tame-omoi_ or _Desirable Feelings _and the _Waru-omoi, Forbidden. _If you remember from our lessons, I taught you all about how an Ansei uses the energy from _Tame-omoi_ to form a spirit sword. The energy from _Tame_ is positive energy and is preferred because the emotions are not reliant on relationships with the outside world. They are completely introspective and can be reflected upon, understood and manifested through meditation and self reflection. The Waru-omoi are feelings which are dependent on our connections to the outside world. Anger and hatred are directed at other people or situations. Fear and doubt result from feelings of inadequacy. Regret and guilt result from a lack of faith that what we have done to others is immoral. The energy is negative and reckless and cannot be harnessed to form a shehai. At least, this is the traditional way of thinking. I however have been pioneering a new concept in our art which I have dubbed the _Kosong-omoi._"

"Kosong-omoi." Roe repeated. "Can you tell me about it?"

Master Zair quickly scanned over the outer perimeter of White Gold Tower. When he was satisfied the Emperor had still not yet arrived, he continued.

"Kosong-Omoi is the art of channeling energy from both _Desirable _and _Forbidden _feelings. Grandmaster Hunding taught us how to use omoi but the specifics of his teachings were lost with time. After his death, new generations of Ansei quickly learned that some omoi was more powerful and easier to harness than others. Omoi stemming from feelings of hate and anger formed less powerful shehai than those formed from the omoi of happiness and tranquility. Thusly the weaker emotions were dubbed _undesirable_ to our art."

Roe nodded, slowly comprehending his Master's words.

"For thousands of years this was the accepted philosophy until I began my research on Kosong-omoi. Frandar Hunding's only son, Divad, was rumoured to have been even more powerful than his father. I was interested to find out why. What did Divad possess that his father did not? After several years of research in our Archives I determined that it had something to do with his knowledge of the _omoi_."

"What?"

"Unlike Frandar who categorized the omoi in extremes, Divad proposed that omoi was actually a _neutral energy _all living beings, not just Ansei, pull from and manipulate. If you are flirting with a pretty girl you are _projecting _positive energy onto her, but if that pretty girl's husband started yelling at you he would be _projecting _negative energy onto you. When we feel guilt and sadness we project the negative energy onto _ourselves._ All peoples of all races are constantly and unconsciously bending this _neutral omoi_ to reflect their inner self but only Ansei do so in such a way where we can actually make something _physical _from something_ metaphysical_."

"You're saying we all have the ability to use this _neutral omoi?" _

"It is the reason our Halls can recruit off the street. There is no prerequisite, no special birth trait needed. All one has to do is find their _own Way_, to be completely in touch with their true self. This of course is only achieved through self-reflection and intense meditation – a chore most people hardly have time for nowadays."

"So you said that regret and other _Waru _can be useful types of energy? How does that work?"

"If when we express an emotion we are manipulating a neutral energy, then _all emotions _in their purest of forms are neutral. Both Frandar and Divad referred to this pure state as the Void – the plane of existence where all physical, metaphysical, and spiritual energies converge in a neutral state of being. If one were able to tap into the pure neutral energy of the Void, the _Kosong-omoi_, their power would be unmatched. An Ansei would never have to limit their emotions or focus on controlling a specific type of feeling. However, only someone with _complete_ inner harmony, a skill no one has mastered for thousands of years, can bind themselves to the Void. I've been trying for a decade and have not met with success. Maybe one day _you _will figure out the secret!"

A few moments of silence passed between the two warriors as the sun began to set behind the walls of the Imperial City.

"So Roe, you want to kill the Emperor. _How do you do it?_"


	17. Chapter 6 Part 3

"You draw him out." Roe finally answered.

He leaned in close to whisper, not wanting to attract the attention of the tavern patrons. The _Feed Bag _was a popular local hangout. After hours of surveillance, the two Ansei now rested their weary eyes and drowned their boredom in a tankard of ale. A low undertone of quiet banter among the tavern patrons was nearly drowned out by the sound of torrential raindrops falling against the ceramic roof tiles.

"Excuse me?" Zair was confused.

"If the Princes are killed first, then the Blades will bring their Emperor out of the Palace and take him into hiding."

"What if they just barricade themselves inside the Palace?" The Master challenged.

"I don't think they will. Remember how you taught us to be _bodyguards_? If we stayed in the corner of the training room we would _always _be overrun. The trick was to _move_ _around, _right sir? If there's an attack I bet the Blades will take him out of the city."

Zair thought Roe's hypothesis over. Using his knowledge of the Blades, Zair suspected that the Emperor's bodyguards would take the Emperor to the safety of Cloud Ruler Temple. _But how? _Zair smiled as the answer finally came to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't think of this sooner Roe. Your idea brings me back to a piece of literature I remember reading in our library not too long ago. Do you remember from your studies, the _Imperial Simulacrum?_"

"I do." Roe answered, recalling the endless nights of study as an Initiate. "The Imperial Battlemage _Jagar Tharn _used magic to disguise himself as the Emperor and ruled in his stead for ten years."

"The Temple grew suspicious of the Emperor's poor management and indecision to deal with the many wars that erupted during this time period. Our Hall Councilsent a team of Ansei to the City to find out what we could. In the course of their investigation one of the Ansei discovered an elaborate tunnel system connecting to Ayleid ruins that run beneath the city. It was later determinedthat these tunnels were a part of an _escape route_ used by the Emperor during times of duress."

"So where does the tunnel start? In the Palace?"

"There's no telling where they would go. Our Ansei determined there were a number of entryways into the tunnels scattered all over the city."

"We can't monitor them all. We need a better plan."

Zair had no immediate answer. The two sat in silent contemplation, brainstorming and rejecting ideas. An entourage of Breton businessmen walked inside the bar, verbally berating those in their path. Zair sat on the side of the table facing them. Roe was seated across from him, unable to see the entourage approaching.

"Move swine! This is our table. Always has and always will be!"

The comment barely caught Roe's attention. Zair did not make eye contact with the Breton. In the corner of the room was a lone Imperial guard present to ensure no trouble from the drunks was had. Trouble was exactly what Zair did not need.

"Are you deaf _pig-ears_?" The Breton flicked Roe's non-deformed ear. "I said –"

Before Zair could caution him to be patient, Roe was out of his seat, behind the Breton clutching a handful of his hair. He slammed the Breton's head into the wooden table. Zair was unsure if the _crack_ sound was the table or the Breton's skull breaking. His two companions scarcely had time to scream for aid before Roe grabbed both by their shirt collars and dragged them across the tavern, tossing them outside through the closed door.

The tavern guard stood up and drew his weapon. Zair motioned to Roe not to resist. His student obeyed and without a word, two Imperial City guardsmen escorted the young Ansei away.


	18. Chapter 7 Part 1

**7**

Roe lay motionless on the floor, examining the stone ceiling of his prison cell. The cold stone floor pressed against his bare skin. Before officially incarcerating him in the Imperial Prison, the two Legionnaires took a detour to a side alley where the Breton from the tavern, now conscious after breaking through a table with his head, paid a generous bribe to have some one-on-one time with his attacker. Of course this meant that the two guardsmen restrained the young Ansei with chains while he had his head repeatedly kicked in. Had it not been for Zair who followed Roe outside the tavern, the guardsmen may have very well let the Breton beat him to death. Zair himself was nearly arrested for "interfering with an officer of the law".

_No matter,_ Roe thought. _I am alive, breathing and I have a job to do. _If there was a tunnel system beneath the City, he was convinced the Emperor would use it to escape should an attempt be made on his life. There was no telling if or when these _assassins _would strike, but until he was let free, it would be up to Zair to continue on alone. The thought of escape occupied his mind. While entirely possible, it would be foolish to do so as the penalty for assault was only twenty-four hour in jail.

Roe tried to be patient. He clenched his fists in silent anger. He could remember the look on his Master's face, the disappointment in Zair's eyes before being ushered away at the behest of the guardsmen. _I should be with my Master, not inside this fucking cell lying on my back! I let my anger get the better of me and now I have jeopardized the entire mission! _His head and chest still ached from the beating hours earlier. Though it pained him to do so, he slowly allowed himself to pass into a deep sleep hoping the time to his release would come quicker.

"_I guess they don't play favorites huh? Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of trash!"_

The throbbing in Roe's head was comparable to the footsteps of a thousand heavily armoured soldiers dancing on his skull. Sometime during the course of his nap he had moved to a corner of the cell and curled himself into a ball against the wall opposite the door. Roe closed his eyes hoping to squeeze in an extra few minutes of sleep.

"_How sad_. _I bet the guards give you special treatment before the end. Oh that's right. You're going to die in here!"_

Roe could hear the voice continue to rant but the words were inaudible. He wasn't sure who this mystery voice was talking to but it wasn't him. Reluctantly he stood using the wall for balance and walked towards his prison cell door.

"_You hear that? The guards are coming, for you!_"

_Good, maybe it's time for me to go _Roe thought.

Roe stood leaning against the door waiting to be carried back outside to the city. He could feel his gut churning as nausea quickly set in. He rushed towards corner of his cell and vomited a mixture of blood and rabbit stew on the floor wondering why the guards had not come to his cell yet.

* * *

"Hey! Hey you down there! Are you alive you _stupid Nord?_"

The rancid stench of vomit woke Roe from his sleep. His forearms were covered in defensive bruises and his face was swelling in several places. Dried blood from a cut over his right eyebrow ran down the side of his face.

"_What?_"

"Ah! So I do have another _friend_ to play with. That lucky bastard across from me just got a free ticket outta here and I thought for sure that…"

"I don't care and I'm not your friend. I'm gone when those guards come back."

Roaring laughter echoed through the empty cells.

"_You? _Ha! Didn't you hear me? Those guards and the old geezer didn't come for you! They left with the other one, _through his cell_ that _fetcher_! By the way he was dressed, I'd guess that the old man was someone important – _royalty _or the like."

The voice sounded stressed, even deranged, but something in Roe's mind convinced him that the prisoner down the hall was telling the truth.

"What were the two guards wearing?"

"Come again?"

"The two men with the _old geezer_, what colour was their clothing?"

"Blue trimmed with gold. That was a silly question."

_The Emperor is guarded by the Blades…easily recognizable by their blue and gold armour… _Roe remembered the description Jiles gave of the Emperor's personal escorts. His initial suspicions were correct. The Blades were helping the Emperor flee the city meaning the Empire was under attack. _Had there been an invasion? Was there an enemy army outside the city gates? A military coup? _Roe fought to break free of his prison cell.

"Easy there Nord, can't bend those bars even with that brute strength of yours!" The voice from down the hallway teased.

Roe ignored the antagonizing remarks. His priority was getting out his cell and saving the Emperor. He paced nervously about, trying to figure out a way to break free. Roe tried to remember his training - _patience_. He searched around his cell for anything that could help him escape._ Could this clay pitcher be broken and the fragments used to pick the lock? Can I fit through the window if I bend the bars?_

"Going somewhere Nord? Try asking the guard, maybe they'll let you out early?" The voice laughed mockingly.

_That's not a bad idea. _

"Guard! Guard! Help, the Emperor needs your assistance!" Roe yelled.

"What are you doing?" The voice called.

"Help me and I swear I will let you out!" Roe offered.

The voice immediately joined in the frantic lies for help. The prisoners yelled and screamed and not too long afterwards a guard came down to investigate.

"Down here! The Emperor is in trouble!" Roe called.

He could hear the Imperial guard's armour clanking as he rushed down the hallway. The guard fumbled nervously searching for the correct key which he then jammed inside the lock. At that moment Roe lurched forward and managed to grab hold of the guard's collar. Roe yanked him forward, slamming the man's head repeatedly into the bars of the cell door. Blood splattered onto his face. The guard's nose shattered and he fell to the ground unconscious. Roe promptly freed himself and took off running down the hallway.

"_Hey! Let me out!"_ Roe turned to see a mangy looking Dark Elf was the source of the voice from down the hall.

Roe ignored the mer's pleas for freedom and entered the unoccupied prison cell. A large section of the stone wall was missing, the obvious entrance to the escape route. Roe wasted no time and proceeded down into the dark tunnels.


	19. Chapter 7 Part 2

The former mercenary felt as if he were back down inside the mine shaft in Argonia, gazing upon the remains of the miners tossed to their deaths. Almost immediately after entering the tunnels he was met with a gruesome sight. Several bodies littered the floor at the entrance to a large room. Most of the corpses were dressed in crimson coloured robes save one, a female Breton, in a set of blue and gold armour. The crimson-robed assailants had managed to surprise at least one of the Emperor's Blades. _How is it that an assassin team was waiting in a secret tunnel? _He looked over the wounds of the fallen warrior seeing a portion of her face was crushed and her armour was pierced in two places. _The assailants attacked her with a mace and finished her off with a dagger._

He next examined the four bodies clad in robes. _No identifying tattoos, marks, no documents or armour of any kind. Varied races, no sign they are loyal to any one country. No weapons? Where are the weapons? The maces, the daggers? _

The Emperor already had a several minute head start with more assassins likely waiting along the escape route. Roe wasted no time in continuing his pursuit. The door ahead of him was shut and the handle was damaged. He looked around the room and saw a section of stone wall was broken. _The Blades decided to break through this wall when they realized the assassins destroyed the lock on the door._ He moved swiftly but cautiously through the hole, following the trail of Emperor Uriel Septim and one lucky prisoner.

* * *

Roe entered a large room scattered with the bodies of five more crimson-robed assailants. That brought the number of dead assassins to nearly fifteen. _The Blades are doing a good job in a tough situation. I just hope they can keep it up. There's no telling how many more of these assassins there are. _Sadly, it looked as if another Blade had died in an ambush. By examining the positions of the bodies, he estimated the assassins tried a frontal assault. Whether or not they succeeded was yet to be determined. From an alcove across the room, Roe could barely make out the voices of two people talking to one another. He quickly hid behind a nearby stone pillar and tried to listen to their conversation.

"…guessing you are an experienced Rogue, am I right?"

"That be my name but not the trade…" A Cyrod man answered with a heavy accent. "_Thief _by trade is what I'm getting at."

"I wasn't far off. Anyway you'll be fine."

"So now what?"

"You need to…immediately…"

Roe was too far away and could only hear bits and pieces of conversation.

"Relax, you'll be okay. No one…- ing an escaped prisoner … of Kings… Emperor trusted you …"

_Damn what did he say? The prisoner was traveling with the Emperor? _

Roe was confused. _Where were the remaining Blades? Where was the Emperor? Had he already escaped? _Roe lowered himself onto his belly and crawled to where he could peek into the alcove. The body of an elderly man was lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

He was too late. The Emperor was dead and his mission was a failure. In an interesting turn of events, it appeared that the lucky prisoner, who Roe assumed was the voice with the accent, was receiving instructions from a Blade.

"…Jauffre… know how to find this lost heir … the Amulet must reach …so a new emperor can be crowned!"

_A lost heir? A fifth Septim! The Black Wolf with the red diamond birthmark from the vision is a lost heir to the throne! _The heir _had _to be in Kvatch.

"May Talos guide you."

Roe could hear the footsteps of someone running from the alcove, leaving the only surviving bodyguard behind. He watched from afar as the Blade removed his helmet and began to weep over the body of Uriel Septim.


	20. Chapter 8

**8**

By the time Roe exited the sewers there was no sign of the man he overheard in the ruins. It wouldn't be long before news of the Emperor's death was announced, Roe had to be careful not to divulge any incriminating evidence that would put him at the scene of the assassination. The precision with which the red-robed assailants ambushed, cornered and killed the Emperor meant that the Princes were in grave danger. He hoped that Ayisha and Jiles were able to safeguard them. His fellow Ansei would be waiting for him at the Brina Cross Inn but in the meantime he either needed to get to Kvatch or find the escaped Prisoner. _Perhaps Puny Ancus can lend a hand…_

__

_

* * *

_

**27 Last Seed, 3E433, Imperial City Waterfront District**

"Roe! _You bastard_ come here!" Puny Ancus nearly broke an ankle chasing him down.

Before he could utter a grunt, Puny Ancus grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down to eye level. Roe allowed this transgression to occur without punishment.

"_Do not_ tell me that you are involved with this!"

News of the assassination was out and of course the beggars knew first. Puny Ancus dragged him to a corner of the Garden of Dareloth. Roe's patience was wearing thin.

"You pay me to find the damn _Imperial family_ and his kids end up dead!"

"His kids are dead?" Roe was now very worried that Ayisha and Jiles may have been killed.

"Don't _fuck _with me!"

Puny Ancus tried to slap Roe across the face. The young Ansei grabbed Anucs' hand and twisted it behind his back. The beggar cried in pain as he was forced to his knees.

"I'll tell the Guard!" Ancus threatened.

"_You will do no such thing_."

"Try me." Ancus answered.

Roe twisted his arm and shoved it higher into his back.

"Okay, okay! Easy!"

"I need to find someone."

"Your friends have come and gone! They came around here after news got out about the Princes. Took off in a hurry."

"_They?" _

"The two guys and that broad you were with the other day!"

_Thank goodness they're okay_ Roe was relieved.

"Did he leave something with you? Or _Armand_?"

"Yes! Armand!" Ancus stammered, still in pain.

"Thanks, but that's not what I need."

"_I'm done with you!_" Ancus yelled.

Roe slammed the beggar into the stone wall and pressed his face next to Ancus' ear.

"_I need to find someone._" He repeated. "_Cyrod, male, heavy accent, possibly a guildmate." _He described, remembering the conversation from the ruins.

"What's it worth to ya?" Ancus asked, always the businessman.

"You will tell me or I will cut your balls off."

Ancus considered his options.

"The guy you describe sounds like one of our higher rankin' guildsmen. Master Thief by the name of Connor_, _but he got busted doing a job for the _Fox _a few weeks back."

"Is he in the Imperial Prison?"

"Yea, they just transferred him there yesterday. Gods only know why."

Roe released his grip on Puny Ancus, allowing the beggar to assess his wounds.

"Did he come by here?"

"I told you _he's in prison_." Ancus replied.

"Not anymore."

* * *

"Armand, I need to find one of our guildsmen. A _Master Thief_ named Connor."

"I'm sorry Roe, _are you still apart of this guild?_ You assault a beggar, _threaten him?_ You ask him for information on the _Imperials_ and days later they turn up dead? Are you sure you are talking to the right person here? Maybe you should try _Cheydinhal?_"

"You're my friend Armand but this is bigger than the guild, bigger than the Fox. I need to find Connor."

Armand walked over to a cabinet and removed a bundle of items wrapped in a thick blanket.

"Your _friend _dropped this off with me. Why he trusted me I don't know."

"Because I told him you could be."

"_Touching_." Armand handed him the bundle.

Roe accepted his items and quickly examined the contents: _fur greaves and boots, modified 11__th__ Cohort cuirass, custom-forged Orcish gauntlets, Amir's scarf, potions, daggers, katana, bow with a full quiver of arrows and an onion. You'd be surprised what you can do with an onion. _Satisfied everything was present, he began to change into his combat armour.

"Are you going to _kill _Connor?"

"No, I need to speak to him. Has he stopped by here recently? Like in the past few hours?"

"No he's in prison. We were planning on busting him out. He is a real asset to the Guild, personal thief for the _Fox _himself."

Armand took a large brown cloak from his closet and handed it to Roe.

"What's this for?" Roe asked accepting the robe.

"_Discretion._"

"Thanks." Roe continued dressing "Tell me about him."

"Connor is one of the best we have. He's a master locksmith and very experienced in our line of work. He was arrested three weeks ago while on a personal errand for the Fox. Don't ask me what it was because I don't know."

"Can he fight?"

"He's sneaky enough to run a blade across your throat while you sleep and not get caught."

"Reliable, trustworthy?"

"He's the kind of man that takes care of himself but he has his allegiances."

Armand helped Roe tighten the straps on his cuirass. He tied his bow and quiver of arrows onto his knapsack, and sheathed his Elven daggersin their proper places, two on the small of his back and one more on his leg.

"Wanna tell an old friendwhat's this all about? Something to do with the Princes' murders?" Armand asked, handing Roe his katana.

"The Emperor's dead too Armand. They killed all of them."

Armand was never much of an Imperial patriot, actually more of an Imperial nuisance, but even he knew that a dead Emperor was bad news. He remained quiet for a few moments.

"Who? Who is _they?_"

"I don't know but Connor might. Does he have a residence, a girlfriend or family somewhere in Cyrodiil?"

"When I worked with him he always talked about how our fence _Ongar _in Bruma was short changing him on purchases. He might know where to find Connor."

Armand escorted Roe outside to where his horse was tied up.

"Thank you Armand. I knew I could rely on you." Roe thanked, shaking the Redguard's hand firmly.

"You're welcome. Now go get those bastards that did this. Assassinations are bad for business."


End file.
